


A Rider's Legacy

by Ravenof_flame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Daddy Issues, Dragon Riders, Eragon is a good bro, F/M, Family Drama, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Thoughts of Suicide, Kind of manipulative Dumbledore, Murtagh needs a hug, Occasional swearing, Past Torture, mentions of child abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:14:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 104,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21793714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenof_flame/pseuds/Ravenof_flame
Summary: All his life, he though that his only blood family left were the Dursleys. But, after Harry's third year, he learns of a secret which had been kept from him and the majority of the world since before he was born. Now he's got to deal with the fact that the man who he had thought was his father, isn't his father, as well as trying to reconnect with his long lost Daddy. And, oh... Bloody Hell! What do you mean he has to compete in a death tornament?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape, Murtagh Morzansson & Eragon Shadeslayer, Murtagh Morzansson & Thorn (Inheritance Cycle), Murtagh Morzansson/Lily Evans Potter, Murtagh morzansson and Harry potter, Saphira & Eragon Shadeslayer (Inheritance Cycle)
Comments: 71
Kudos: 168





	1. Prolog

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything.

Prologue  
  
In a small park in London, a lone eighteen year old woman walked down the path, attempting to clear her mind. Her red hair was blown by the summer breeze. This young woman was Lily Evans, a recent graduate of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. And she was currently not in the best of moods.

For the past nine months she had dated James Potter, who had been pursuing a romantic relationship with her ever since first year, or so he claimed.  
Six years to gain her affection, and only six minutes to loose it.  
She thought bitterly.  
While James had been extraordinarily immature for the majority of their Hogwarts years, he seemed to have grown up once he reached his seventh year.  
Lily scoffed. As if. Once an immature bastard, always an immature bastard.  
She couldn't believe she had actually given him a chance. Admittedly, Lily had begun to find his sense of humour kind of charming. When he wasn't harassing innocent students, primarily Slytherins, that is. She had also discovered he had a kind heart and a strong sense of loyalty towards those he cared for. Truthfully, she had probably just gotten tired of rejecting his advances. In any case, the end result was nine months of an epic romance, that had probably ended tonight.  
Lily sat down on a park bench. She looked around. The aree was completely deserted. The closest stragglers were across the street. The sun was only just setting below the horizon. Lily knew it was dangerous for her to be out in such an open location by herself, at night, and in Muggle London. After all, it was witches and wizards like herself who were the main targets for Voldemort’s death eaters. But tonight, Lily could not bring herself to care.  
A mere hour ago, she and James had had their biggest fight to date. Words and spells alike were thrown between the two. And What was the cause of such an argument, one might wonder?  
The one and only Severus Snape.  
Fresh out of Hogwarts, they had both joined The Order of the Phoenix, a secret organization dedicated to fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The Order was led by their former headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.  
The Order had recently faced off against Voldemort's forces during another Death Eater raid. During the fight, Lily and James had gotten separated. Lily knew that James could take care of himself. However, she was still frightened when she heard him scream. Hence why, she immediately ran to where she heard the sound.

Only to be met with a sight that chilled her to the core.  
It appeared that James had somehow gotten into a fist fight with a Death Eater, which Lily found strange, as Voldemort's forces detested Muggle forms of fighting.  
But alas, a worst surprise was yet to come.  
In the tussle, the Death Eater's mask had fallen off. The face that was revealed underneath was the last one she had ever wanted to see under a Death Eater mask. The face of her oldest friend, Severus Snape.

Her shocked emerald eyes met his surprised black ones. Tears began to blur her vision. One single word slipped past her lips in a broken whisper.  
"Sev?"

She looked down, no longer able look at the man before her.  
She didn’t receive a reply as Severus had somehow freed himself from James's grasp, picked up his mask, and disapperated.  
During the debriefing with the Order, Lily had kept a tight grasp on James's hand. Every time he made to speak, she would shoot him one of her deadliest glares. She knew what he desperately wanted to say. He wanted to reveal that Snape was a Death Eater. And she wasn’t going to let him.  
Once they returned to their shared apartment, James had demanded why she wouldn't let him speak. Once she told him, the argument escalated from there.  
James had asked why she would protect someone like Severus Snape. Lily pointed out that he had once been her closest friend. James had retorted that "The snivelling git", had not been her friend for years. That he had called her, "The M word", and that he was now "A Death Eater, for Merlin's sake!".  
Lily had yelled that maybe, if James and his friends hadn't been so cruel to Severus, then he wouldn't have fallen so far. The rest was just a blur in her mind.  
Lily did not know why she had defended Severus. Or even how she felt about him.  
On one hand, she had known him to have interactions with students who meddled in the dark arts. She had heard of how, when he was with his fellow Slytherins, he was known to insult witches and wizards who were Muggle Born, like herself. And then there was the incident in their fifth year which Lily hated to think about.  
On the other hand, the two had been extremely close friends since even before Hogwarts. Severus had only started acting cruel to Muggle Borns when he began to hang out with the other Slytherins.  
Lily knew of Snape's home life. An abusive drunk for a father, and a mother who was too weak willed to protect either herself or her son. Lily knew that Severus only wanted somewhere he could be loved and respected.  
Severus went to Hogwarts thinking that he could finally find a place where he would belong.  
Only to be constantly harassed by an arrogant gang of Gryffindors, and to be stuck in a house full of pure-blood supremacists. It didn't help matters that his only true friend had been sorted into a house which was in constant rivalry with his own.  
Lily shook her head. In the end, she felt guilty for what happened to Severus. She felt as if she were partly responsible for his decision to join the dark side.   
She remembered that night, after he had accidentally called her a "Mudblood". She had known that he regretted it right away. But she let her fear control her decisions.  
She had feared for a long time that her friend was falling to the dark. Her friends in Gryffindor had warned her, not to trust him. Told her that all Slytherins hated Muggle-Borns. But she hadn't listened. She had thought that her friend would be strong enough, that he wouldn’t give in to peer pressure. That he would resist the seductive pull of the dark arts.  
Only to be called the worst name a witch of her status could be called.  
She had been filled with anger, at both Severus and herself, that night. He had begged her, sat outside the Fat Lady's portrait for hours. Only for her to reject him.  
"No - listen, I didn't mean -"  
"- to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?"  
She remembered the final words she had said to him that horrible night. She had thought that it was the other Slytherins influencing her friend.  
Maybe if she had forgiven Severus, maybe if James hadn't been so cruel towards him. Maybe, maybe...

Lily wiped tears of frustration from her eyes. It was too late for maybe’s and what if’s, her friend had chosen his path, and this time she couldn’t follow after him.  
Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to save him. After all, wasn't Dumbledore always promoting the idea of redemption, forgiveness and second chances? It was the main reason why he didn't allow them to use lethal spells on missions against the Death Eaters. Maybe there was still hope for Severus Snape. Lily knew it was a long shot, but hope was one of the only things she had left these days. Her sister Petunia wasn't talking to her, and she was afraid to go to her parents, as she did not wish to make them targets for Death Eaters. And her relationship with James was most likely over.  
Lily sighed. Life was not going well at the moment.  
Suddenly, the teenaged witch was broken out of her thoughts by several cracks.  
Around her were a dozen Death Eaters who had apperated into the deserted park.  
"Well, well, well, look who it is." One of them said. "Potter's little Mudblood whore. What's wrong, your blood-traitor friends are not around to protect you?"  
Lily stood up, her wand in her hand.  
"Go to Hell." She snapped.  
The Death Eaters laughed.  
"First, we're going to ask you some questions. Like the location and plans of Dumbledores little club."  
Her only answer was to fire curses, aiming to severely wound and stun the Death Eaters.  
Lily was a talented and powerful witch. However, she was only eighteen years old and fresh out of Hogwarts. The Death Eaters on the other hand, had many decades of magical training under their belts. While Lily was able to take out a few, she was no match for them.  
They disarmed her and held her down while their leader interrogated her.  
"Now, what is Dumbledore planning?"  
She spat in his face.  
"Crucio."  
Lily felt absolute pain course through her entire body. It seemed to go on for an eternity, but only lasted a few seconds.  
It continued in a similar way for some time. The Death Eater would ask her a question, and Lily would reply by either spitting or yelling insults in his face. This would result in another round of cruciatus curse. After a while, Lily was panting and the Death Eaters looked furious.  
"Forget this." The leader growled. "Let's just kill her and owl Potter her head."  
This was it. She was about to die. Lily closed ⠓⠻ eyes. But before she did a glint of red entered her vision. Wait... that made no sense, the killing curse was green.  
The leader's eyes widened. His body fell to one side to reveal a strange looking sword, its red blade lodged in his back.  
The other Death Eaters released Lily and backed away from their fallen comrade. Their wands were pointing in every direction, attempting to see who had killed the dead Death Eater.  
A few of them shot spells towards the area surrounding the body. With a flicker of red energy, the spells were deflected, much to both Lily's and the Death Eaters' surprise.  
What was even more surprising, however, was the man who materialized seemingly out of nowhere.  
Within the blink of an eye, the man had crouched down, retrieved the sword, and was back on his feet ready to fight. He then raced toward the Death Eaters.  
The Death Eaters shot curse after curse at him, the majority of them being the killing curse. However, the man managed to either dodge, or much to the shock of everyone present, deflect all the spells with his sword. One by one, they all fell to his blade. Lily could do little more than stare, as she was still recovering from the torture.  
She had no idea what to think of this man. On one hand, he had saved her from certain death. On the other hand, he was killing all of the Death Eater's, which heavily conflicted with her morals.  
Soon, all the Death Eaters laid dead, leaving Lily alone with the man standing. He walked over to her, extending a hand.  
"Are you alright?" He asked, his accent strange.  
Lily refused his hand and got shakily to her feet.  
"What the hell did you just do?" She said with as much fury as she could muster.  
As she walked toward the lead Death Eater and rummaged around in his robe pockets, eventually finding her wand, the man stared at her, confusedly.  
"I believe I just saved your life." He replied adamantly.  
"You killed them." She retorted, gesturing toward the Death Eaters. She quickly threw up a few privacy wards.  
The man gave her an exasperated look.   
"Weren't they just torturing you and talking about killing you?"  
"Yes, well..."  
"I may not know much about the situation, but these people seemed like the type who have done such things and much worse in the past, on a regular basis and would do it again without hesitation in the future."  
"Yes, but..." Lily tried to think of a reply but couldn’t for the life of her come up with one.  
In truth, she did not as strongly believe in second chances as Dumbledore. While in theory, it was a nice mentality to have, it wasn't very ideal when it came to war. People died in wars. That was the reality of it. The Order was doing very poorly in the war, and many viewed it as the fault of Dumbledore's policy of non-lethal spells as the reason for it.  
But this was different. It was one thing to debate about it. It was another thing to see it.  
So Lily took a deep breath and stared straight at the man.  
"Could you at least help me get rid of the bodies, seeing as your the one who made the mess?"  
The man merely raised a hand and said in a strange language, "Brisingr."  
Suddenly, all the bodies erupted in red fire.  
Lily blinked in surprise. Who exactly was this stranger?  
She examined him carefully. He was tall, with deep dark brown hair and mysterious grey eyes.  
She cleared her throat awkwardly.  
"Well, thanks for ummm..."  
She glanced around at the burning bodies.  
"So, I'm Lily. Can I have your name?"  
The man examined her for a few seconds. Finally, he answered her.  
"Murtagh."  
She smiled.  
"Well, seeing as you just appeared from thin air and saved me, the least we could do is talk."  
  
As Murtagh followed the strange red-haired woman to a bench, he thought over what had led him to his current situation.  
It had been three years since he and Thorn had left Alagaësia. They had soon discovered that the world was bigger than they thought. It turns out, Alagaësia was far, far behind the rest of the world. The technology and society of these new lands amazed him. Both dragon and Rider theorized that it was only due to the strong concentration of magic within Alagaësia which kept it from being discovered by the outside world.  
Thorn had been ecstatic to discover the existence of multiple species of dragons. However, he was then disappointed when he realized that they were not as intelligent as Alagaësian dragons.  
Another interesting discovery were the different societies of magic users, all hidden from the rest of the world. Murtagh found their magic to be both stronger and weaker than the ancient language.  
On one hand, they did not have to draw energy from either their surroundings, or objects in which energy had been stored, so that they did not kill themselves from using too much of their own personal energy. However, their magic was basically useless without a wand. A fragile wooden stick.  
Murtagh learnt as much of the wizarding world as he could. He believed that this would surely peak the interest of Eragon. Murtagh knew that as soon as his brother found out about this hidden world of magic, he would wish to know everything about it. And he would most likely find out when Murtagh and Thorn felt ready to return. In the meantime however, Murtagh was exploring the magical world.  
It was during his and Thorn's explorations, that he learnt of the trouble in magical Britain.  
Murtagh and Thorn did not wish to be in any more wars. They had had enough of conflict when they were enslaved by Galbatorix. Even after three years, the memories still filled them with sorrow, regret, and shame. They had been forced to do truly horrible things and they had no wish to participate in any more conflict.  
However, they also had no desire to allow the rise of another potential Galbatorix.  
So they both decided to remain out of the conflict and observe. If it looked like Voldemort was getting too powerful, and that there was little to no chance of stopping him, then they would intervene. This decision had stood strong, until tonight.  
He and Thorn had been flying over London, both camouflaged by magic, when they had sensed a great magical disturbance.  
They had swooped down to see several of the hooded figures whom supported the dark wizard Voldemort, torturing a young woman. It appeared as if they had stumbled upon some form of interrogation.  
Murtagh had to admit, the woman was fierce. Though she appeared to be in pain, she did not break.  
[She must be one of the magicians fighting the snake faced one.]  
Said Thorn through their mental bond.  
[The ones who are led by the old man.] Murtagh replied.  
They had seen several of their battles, and he was not too impressed. It appeared that their leader's mentality was the same as that of Eragon's when they had first met. Murtagh remembered when he had slain that slaver, and how outraged Eragon had been when he killed someone in cold blood.  
Murtagh shook his head and looked at the scene again. Thorn had just landed a few feet away now, and he could now hear what they were saying.  
"Forget this." The cloaked figure whom Murtagh assumed to be their leader said. "Let's just kill her and owl Potter her head."  
Murtagh instantly leapt into action. Still camouflaged, he jumped off of Thorn and drew Zar-Roc. He ran toward the leader and stabbed him in the back.  
When the rest fired spells in his general direction, he muttered a spell to deflect them. He dropped his camouflage and quickly finished them off.  
Though the woman who he now knew to be Lily was at first angry with him, she appeared to have calmed down and they were now sitting on a park bench, talking to each other.  
"What was that?" The witch asked.  
Murtagh shrugged.  
"Magic."  
"Well, that much was obvious." She replied. "But it wasn't any kind of magic I've seen before."  
"I am not from around here." Murtagh answered her.  
"Then what are you doing here?" She asked, suspicion lacing her tone.  
"If you are wondering if I am a supporter of the dark wizard you are having a problem with, I am not. I was merely passing through, and noticed you being attacked."  
He glanced at her.  
"Why were you sitting out here alone, if you are in a war?"  
Lily frowned.  
"I got into a fight with my boyfriend... Needed to clear my head..."  
Murtagh didn't push further. Thankfully, Lily changed the subject. And it went on from there.  
Murtagh found himself enjoying the witch's company. She had a kind heart, a fierce temper, and was not afraid to do what it took to keep the people she cared about safe.  
While he tried to avoid lying to her, he was also not about to tell her all of his secrets.  
Once it got dark, they decided it was time to leave. When Murtagh asked her if she had a place to stay, Lily replied by saying she might ask if she could stay with a friend of her's. He offered to help her, just in case she got attacked again. However, Lily declined. And so they parted ways, both feeling better than they did upon arrival in the park.  
During the following months, Lily and Murtagh continued to meet in the same park they had first met in. They were as open as they could be to each other. However, they still had their secrets. Lily, hid her conflicting feelings concerning Severus Snape, and Murtagh, hid his dark past. For the next few months, the two became closer. What began as a hesitant friendship quickly developed into something more than either of them could have ever dreamed for.  
Lily was hesitant about beginning a new relationship, considering what had happened with James. However, Murtagh was not James. He was far more mature, and did not see things in black and white as James did. But she did not even know if he even felt the same way. He was always so guarded, it was hard to tell what he was thinking half of the time.  
Murtagh was scared of getting too close to Lily. He was developing feelings towards her, and he could tell she felt the same way to some extent. However, he did not know if they would last when Lily found out about his past. He did not wish to keep secrets from her, especially if they were to become intimate.  
But what would happen when she did find out? What would she think of him then? Would she hate him for all the blood that stained his hands?  
It took Thorn to convince him otherwise.  
[If she truly loves you, then she won't care.] Thorn argued. [And anyway, neither of us asked to be controlled by Galbatorix in the first place.]  
Against his better judgement, Murtagh listened to Thorn's advice.  
Once both Murtagh and Lily had confessed their feelings, they both felt as if a giant weight had been lifted from their shoulders. Murtagh had even told her details of his past. Not the fine details, only about how he had been bound by magic to the will of a tyrant king and forced to commit horrific acts, and had even been forced to fight against his own brother. He had even told her about the Dragon Riders.  
She had been amazed when Murtagh revealed Thorn to her. And even more amazed when Thorn touched her mind and communicated with her.  
From then, Lily and Murtagh had led a secret relationship.  
After her fight with James, she had moved in with her friend Alice and her fiancé Frank Longbottom. Though Lily trusted Alice, she kept the existence of Murtagh Murtagh’s existence a secret.  
At the next order meeting, Lily had bumped into James. To her amazement, he had apologized to her about the fight, and asked if they could start over.  
Lily had thanked him for the apology, but had told him that she thought it best if they were just friends. James had been upset, but he accepted it and they had eventually become good friends.  
Everything seemed to be going fine. Until one January, over a year and a half after they had first met.  
  
They had met in a coffee shop in Muggle London. Lily had thrown up privacy wards around their table. She was fidgeting nervously.  
"I... I need to tell you something." She stuttered out.  
Murtagh glanced at her curiously. Lily was hardly ever nervous.  
Lily took a deep breath.  
"I'm pregnant."  
The whole world stopped. Murtagh could hardly breathe. He vaguely heard Lily calling his name. But all he could hear was "Pregnant.".  
She was pregnant.  
How? Didn't he... Well, there might have been a time or two... But that shouldn't have been enough...  
Pregnant... But that would mean... Wouldn't that mean...  
[Murtagh!]  
He finally heard Thorn yelling in his mind.  
He looked to Lily to see her face marred with concern.  
"I..." He gulped. "This is... Incredible... I am truly happy for you... But I... I don't think I could be a good father..."  
Lily's eyes began to fill with tears.  
"What do you mean?"  
"It's not that I don't want to be a father." He quickly said. "It's just that, I think any child would be better off without me."  
"Why would you say that?" Lily asked. "I mean, I get that you have a dark past, and that you've made mistakes... But haven't we all?"  
Murtagh took a deep breath.  
"No, it's... It's more than that."  
He closed his eyes, clearing his mind so that he could properly explain the darkest part of his history.  
"Do you remember the scar? The long one on my back?"  
And so, Murtagh told her everything, concerning Morzan and his heritage.  
By the end of it, Lily was quiet for a long time. Finally she spoke.  
"Well, there are certainly a number of things I could call that... that monster you had to call a father. But I would prefer not to use such language."  
Murtagh blinked.  
"Is that it?" He asked, amazed. Where was the hate? The disgust? The suspicion?  
Lily only reached out and grabbed his hand.  
"Murtagh I love you. Just because your father was a monster, doesn't mean that you are. It doesn't matter where you came from. All that matters is what you make of your own life."  
Murtagh smiled, relieved by her words.  
"Oh, how I wish there was at least one person in Alagaësia who shared your sentiment."  
He sighed.  
"I would love nothing more than to stay with you and our child. But, I do not wish to draw attention to the child while they are still young. Both Thorn and I feel that if we don't return to Eragon soon, then he and Saphira will come looking for us. Soon we will have to return to Alagaësia, and I want any child of mine to be as far away from there as possible. I know how it feels, to be judged for the crimes of my father. If the child of Morzan was treated with such distain, imagine how the grandchild of Morzan and the child of Murtagh Kingkiller will be treated."  
Lily's hand grasped his even tighter.  
"Please Lily." He begged, his voice full of emotion. "I am more damaged than you could possibly imagine. Both Thorn and I are. We need to keep moving, to recover from the torture we were put through. I would want nothing more than to stop here and make a family with you. But we fear that if we remain for too long, then Eragon will decide to come looking for us, and I wish to stay as far away from the eye of Alagaësia as possible. I do not want my child, our child, to grow up being hated for who their father is. They deserve more than a damaged father and a legacy of murder and betrayal."  
Lily had tears in her eyes.  
"I... I understand."  
And so with a heavy heart, they made plans to explain Lily's pregnancy.  
After much debate, they decided to seek out James for help. While at first Murtagh was hesitant to tell him the situation, Lily seemed to trust him. Murtagh could tell that under the arrogance, James Potter had a good heart and would do anything for Lily. So it was decided that they would claim James was the father of Lily's child, and that they had secretly gotten back together, but didn't want to draw too much attention.  
It turned out that the newly married Alice Longbottom was also pregnant, and expecting just before Lily. So the Longbottom couple was also invited into the secret. Another addition was Sirius Black, whom James considered a brother.  
All were sworn to secrecy. Murtagh had gone as far as to make them swear an oath in the ancient language to not tell anyone unless permitted by either himself or Lily.  
James had wanted to tell Remus and Peter. However, Murtagh did not trust the latter, and most of the order was suspicious of the former. Thankfully, Lily permitted that if it turned out Remus could be trusted, he could be allowed to know the secret.  
  
The child was born at 11:59 p.m., in St Mungo's. He was approximately 3 weeks premature, but extremely strong.  
After all the visitors had left, only Lily and James remained in the hospital room. Murtagh slipped in, having borrowed James's invisibility cloak. He nervously walked towards the bed, where Lily was holding the baby.  
Lily placed the child into his shaking arms. Murtagh looked down at the child and smiled.  
Lily was grinning exhaustedly as well.  
"We've decided to name him Harry, after my father." She said.  
Her parents had been attacked by Death Eaters just weeks after she found out she was pregnant. They hadn't even been the targets. Merely collateral damage during another raid. Their deaths had devastated her, as well as putting a permanent wedge between herself and her sister.  
Murtagh smiled down at the child, Harry. His son. Harry Murtaghson. The thought almost brought a tear to his eye.  
No. He couldn't. He couldn't be Murtaghson. Not now. Not while his scars were so fresh. He wished he could be the father his son deserved. But he couldn't. Both he and Thorn were too damaged. Eventually, Eragon would come looking for him. He would try to convince him to join the new Riders. Any new Riders would be Alagaësian. They would remember the war. They would know of Murtagh, the king killer, the son of Morzan.  
No, it was best if Harry stayed here, where he would not be hated for his heritage.  
He looked up at Lily and James.  
"Thank you." He said. "I'm... I'm sorry that I am not able to do more..."  
"Hey," James walked over to him. "I get it. You’re doing the right thing, keeping your kid safe."  
Murtagh smiled at the man.  
"And I hope you will keep both of them safe." He replied.  
“I will. I promise."  
Murtagh looked at Harry again. His hair was a deep dark brown, almost black, like his own. His eyes opened to reveal emerald coloured orbs. Lily's eyes.  
Murtagh took a deep breath. He held his son close to him one last time.  
"Don't worry." He whispered to the child, his child. "I will return for you."  
With a heavy heart, he handed Harry back to Lily. He kissed the woman he loved one last time. Then, he took out the cloak again.  
"Please," He began. "Tell him the truth when you feel the time is right. Then, give him this."  
He retrieved a glowing red gemstone from his pocket.  
"This will help him find me, when the time is right." He explained.  
He turned to leave. Just as he was about to walk out of the door and put on the cloak, he turned one final time.  
"I'll leave the cloak at your home. Lily... Thank you."  
And with that, he left.  
That night, after dropping the cloak off at James's home in Godric's Hollow, he and Thorn flew away from England with sorrow in their hearts. Murtagh knew it was hard. But it was the right thing to do.  
James and Lily were good people. They would raise him right. They would give Harry all the love he deserved. And when the time came for Harry to learn of his heritage... Well, Murtagh could only hope Harry would forgive him.  
Neither Murtagh, nor Thorn, nor James and Lily, could have known that Harry's time with his mother and adoptive father was limitedcounted. That in only fifteen months, both would be dead and Harry would be put into the care of his mother's sister and her family, from whom he would never receive the love and care he needed. And it would take until his eleventh birthday before he even discovered the existence of magic. It would take another three years before he discovered the truth of his heritage.


	2. Not Quite A Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds out some things.

Chapter 1:  
  
On a warm summer day in early July, a teenaged boy walked down a street in London. He wore a hat low on his head, covering his face so he would not be easily recognized.  
This boy was Harry Potter.  
Just a day ago, he had received a letter from his most recent, (and best), defence against the dark arts teacher, Professor Remus Lupin. The letter said to meet him at 10:00 a.m. on this day in the Leaky Cauldron. Which was where he was headed.  
Finally, he reached the pub which was magically concealed from the Muggle eye. Quietly he walked in, hoping no one would recognize him. The wizarding world had the nasty habit of mobbing him as soon as he stepped foot in public.   
Looking around the dingy pub, he finally spotted the scruffy looking werewolf sitting at a table in a shadowed corner. He approached the table, his eyes darting around to make sure no one had recognized him. Finally, he reached the table.  
"Harry." The older wizard said, smiling.  
"Morning professor." Harry replied. "What's with the dark corner? People would think we're up to no good."  
Chuckling, Lupin pulled out his wand and waved it around, casting a silent spell.  
"Says the one who was looking around as if he were afraid to be caught doing something he shouldn't be. And you don't have to call me Professor anymore Harry. Remus will do just fine."  
"Thanks... Remus." Harry replied. "And I was only looking around like that because... Well, the first time I came into the Leaky Caldron, everyone came up to me several times to shake my hand. It took a while for Hagrid to get us out of there."  
Remus chuckled.  
"Yes, the public can get a little... Enthusiastic when meeting famous people. Especially those who defeat dark wizards at the age of one."  
"Don't remind me." Harry muttered.  
"Well, you don't have to worry about people shaking your hand. I've just put privacy wards around our table, so no one will bother us when I tell you why I asked for you to come here."  
Harry took his hat off in relief.  
"So why did you ask me to come here?" He asked.  
Remus seemed to become suddenly nervous, as if he was afraid of how Harry would react to what he had to say.  
"Well," He began. "Since the end of term, Sirius and I have been keeping in contact through exchanging letters. In the most recent letter, he... He informed me of something... A secret which he had kept for a while... Something which concerns you."  
Harry groaned.  
"Another secret? Great. Just great." He muttered.  
Remus put his hand on Harry's and squeezed it reassuringly. He took a deep breath and continued.  
"You see, during our seventh year, your parents were in a very... unexpected relationship. James had been attempting to gain Lily's affection for years. Finally, she accepted his advances and for nine months they were in a relationship."  
Remus smiled at this. Then the smile faded.  
"As soon as we left Hogwarts, we all, James, Lily, Sirius, Peter and I, joined an organization founded by Professor Dumbledore, intent on fighting Voldemort and his forces. We mostly just attempted to capture Death Eaters, the supporters of Voldemort, during raids they had on civilians. On one of these raids, something happened... Don't ask me what, no one knows... Which caused James and Lily to have a fight that ended with Lily walking out on him. This was the end of their relationship. However, this did not prevent them from becoming close friends."  
Harry's brows furrowed. He thought over the timeline. Last time he checked, he was born when his parents were twenty. If their fight happened just after they left Hogwarts, then they would have both been eighteen. But this did not make sense. He highly doubted that witches had 2 year pregnancies. So how?  
"Wait, if my parents weren't even dating... Then how do you explain me?" He said, gesturing to himself.  
Remus took a deep breath.  
"It is a long story. I feel as if this would be better explained by Sirius. He knows more about it than I do. I also believe he told me that your mother wrote a letter explaining this... But what I am saying is... James Potter is not your biological father."  
Harry froze. His eyes widened. He could not believe what he had just heard. It couldn't be.  
James Potter, not his father?  
Remus put his hand on Harry's again.  
"I am sorry Harry. I have only just found out about this myself. If you wish, we could go try to find this letter from your mother. Sirius said that he would be waiting for us, as he thought you might want to go looking for it."  
"Where are we going?" Harry asked weakly.  
"We will be going to Godric's Hollow, where the three of you lived before Voldemort's attack. Will you... Will you be alright going there?"  
"I... I think so." Harry replied, standing shakily.  
"It will be alright." Remus said gently while leading Harry out of the Leaky Cauldron.  
"How are we getting there?" Harry asked.  
Remus grasped Harry's arm.  
"Side-along apparition. It may feel strange the first time, but don't worry."  
"Okay." Harry said. "I think I'm ready."  
Remus smiled. He grasped Harry's arm a little tighter.  
Harry suddenly felt as if he was being squeezed through a tube. Then, thankfully, it was over. He and Remus now stood in what appeared to be a country village.  
"Come on Harry." Said Remus.  
The teen followed the werewolf as he was led past the many houses. Godric's Hollow was a quaint and peaceful village, the ideal place to raise children and start a family. He briefly wondered what his life would have been like if he had grown up here with his parents. Then he shook his head as he remembered what Remus had just told him.  
Finally, they reached their destination. On first arriving, it looked just like any other house. However, when they got closer to it, they could see the extremely tall lawn, the overgrown garden, and the half destroyed house. Harry knew it had to be the house where his parents had lived... Where they had died and where Harry had become famous. Sitting right in front of the gate was a large black dog.  
"Sirius." He whispered as the dog walked towards them.  
Sirius whimpered as Harry greeted him with a scratch behind his ears.  
"Come." Remus said, gesturing toward the house. "Let us go into the house where we can all talk privately."  
Both Harry and Remus stepped over the fence as Sirius jumped over it. They walked to the front door, where the house was still intact. To be honest, the only part of the house that was completely damaged was the nursery, where you could actually see the room inside.  
Sirius led them into the living room, where there was only a small amount of rubble. As soon as they were in a place where they could not be seen from the outside, Sirius turned into his human form.  
"Hello, Harry." He said, grinning. His grin melted once he saw Harry's expression. "Well," He continued. "I'm sure you have questions."  
Harry took a moment to figure out what to say next. Finally, he found what he wanted to ask first.  
"Why did they lie?"  
Sirius winced.  
"It's complicated. I don't have all of the facts. He, your biological father... Was very secretive. I think the only reason why he trusted me was because of Lily. And even then, his primary objective was to make sure you were safe."  
Harry laughed.  
"Yeah, cause I was really safe when Voldemort attacked us."  
Sirius sighed.  
"None of us knew that Voldemort would come after you until he was long gone. If we did, I bet he would have taken both you and Lily as far away from England as possible."  
Harry scowled.  
"So he's still alive?"  
"As far as I know?" Sirius replied.  
"Then why didn't he try to take me when my parents... Errr..."  
He frowned. How was he now supposed to refer to James Potter? Could he still think of the man as his father?  
"In fact, how did I end up with the Dursleys? Didn't anyone know that my Mum's sister hated magic? Or did they just not care?"  
"It's not that we didn't care." Sirius replied. "It's just that, I made the mistake of going after wormtail. You know the outcome of that."  
"But wasn't there anyone else?" Harry asked, looking at Remus.  
The werewolf sighed.  
"At first, I did want to be the one to take care of you. But then I thought that it would be better if I didn't, considering my little furry problem. I thought it wouldn't be safe with a baby around."  
"What about now?" Harry asked.  
"What?" Remus asked in shock.  
"Why don't I move in with you now?" Harry said.  
"You would rather live with me than with your relatives?"  
Harry scoffed.  
"To be honest, half the time I would rather live with the Malfoys than with the Dursleys. At least they never tried to lock me in a cupboard."  
"What do you mean, "tried to lock you in a cupboard."?" Sirius practically growled.  
Harry shrugged.  
"Not important. Lets just say that they treated me more like a house-elf than a human being."  
At the two men's dark expressions, Harry quickly put the conversation back on track.  
"Anyway, so do you know if Mum left anything explaining this situation?"  
They both snapped out of whatever dark thoughts they were in. Sirius cleared his throat.  
"Yes, well. While you and Lily were staying here, she slept in the guest bedroom. All of her stuff is still there, last time I checked. If there is any letter, it would be there."  
So the three of them walked up the mostly intact stairs to the floor above, where there was even more rubble strewn about. They carefully walked to the guest bedroom and stopped at the door. Harry looked at the two men.  
"Can I... Can I have a moment in there... You know."  
Sirius nodded and Remus gestured to the door.  
"Go ahead." He said gently.  
So Harry gingerly opened the door and walked into the room where his mother used to sleep.  
He looked around. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust. There was a bed, a desk beside that, and a wardrobe in one corner.  
He walked over to the wardrobe. He didn't think that any letter would be in there. He only wished to get a feel of the woman that had been his mother.  
He opened it to see a mix of wizarding robes and muggle clothing, obviously preserved by a multitude of preserving and statis charms. He blushed when he saw what looked like a bra in one corner.  
He felt one of the muggle shirts. The material felt nice against his skin. Impulsively, he sniffed it. The scent was so strange, and yet, so familiar. He decided he should stop before he got too distracted.  
He needed to find that letter. He knew that if it was anywhere, it would be in the desk beside the bed. So he walked over to it and rummaged through the drawers.  
There were papers, newspaper clippings, old opened letters... Finally, he found it. An envelope that was unopened and had his name on it. It was heavy, as if it contained more than just a letter.  
He walked over to the bed and sat down. With trembling hands, he opened the letter. A glowing red stone fell into his lap. He examined it cautiously and remembering the last time he had been involved with a magical red stone. He hoped that this one didn't hold a magical power which could bring Voldemort back to life.  
He placed the stone on the bed beside him and turned his attention to the letter.  
  
Dear Harry,  
If you are reading this, it means that I am unable to tell you the truth in person. I am truly sorry that I am unable to be there for you, for I know that this may be hard. Hopefully you have been raised right. And I hope Alice and Remus were sensible enough to keep Sirius from turning you into too much of a trouble maker.  
Anyway, that is not the point of this letter. By now, you would have probably found out that James is not your birth father. However, I would like you to know that even if you are not his by blood, he still loves you regardless of anything else.  
James and I dated for nine months during our seventh year. However, we broke up just after we left Hogwarts, due to a horrible disagreement which went too far.  
After the fight, I went to a Muggle park to calm myself down. In this park I was attacked by Death Eaters. They greatly outnumbered me. I would have been done for if not for a mysterious stranger.  
He saved me from the Death Eaters using a magic sword, and we ended up talking.  
His name was Murtagh. At first he was secretive about his origins. However, once we became closer, he revealed some surprising things to me.  
He came from a hidden magical land, still stuck in the middle ages, called Alagaësia. While he was human, he was what is known as a Dragon Rider. The Dragons of Alagaësia are far more intelligent than other species of dragon. Murtagh had a mental link with a dragon called Thorn. It was very surprising when Thorn communicated with me in my head.  
Murtagh's story is quite a long and complicated one. He didn't tell me the full extent of it until over a year and a half after we met, when I revealed to him that I was pregnant.  
When I told him that I was pregnant, he was terrified. Not because he did not want to be a father, but because he didn't think he was suitable to being a father. You see, for all of his life he was hated for his father's crimes. His father, according to Murtagh's description, was a truly horrible person. And Murtagh was burdened by everyone's hatred of him.  
Both Murtagh and Thorn were magically enslaved by a cruel tyrant. They were forced to do horrific things and even fight against Murtagh's own brother. This caused them both to be hated by the people of Alagaësia. When I met him, he and Thorn were attempting to deal with the psychological trauma of what they had been forced to do. He did not participate in the war against Voldemort, not because he feared him, but because he was tired of fighting. No one besides a select few knew of his existence. James agreed to help me cover up my pregnancy by claiming that we had secretly gotten back together and that the baby was his.  
Murtagh knew that eventually, he would have to return to Alagaësia. He feared you would suffer the same fate as he did. He did not want your childhood to be filled with hatred and scorn for something you had no control over. He did not wish for you to suffer as he had.  
Murtagh truly cares for you, Harry. I can still remember how he smiled whenever he would feel you kick inside my womb. And when you were born, I could tell that it hurt him to leave you, us.  
He enchanted this stone to lead you to him when the time comes. Please, do not be angry at him for leaving. He was doing what he thought was best. He wanted you to grow up with the love you deserve.  
Know that no matter what, no matter who you have grown up to become, I will always love you. James loved you. Murtagh, loves you.  
I hope that you find love and happiness in whatever you choose in life.  
Love, Your Mother.  
  
Harry had to fight back tears. His mum had loved him. His dad... Both his dads, loved him?  
He knew the letter had asked him not to be angry at his birth father. But he couldn't help it. The man had just ran away and never even tried to check on them.  
Then Harry remembered that the letter had said he didn't want Harry to grow up being hated for his family's mistakes. For things he couldn't control. Harry scoffed. Well, that didn't go to plan. The Dursleys hated him for being a wizard, something that not even he knew until he was eleven. Snape constantly bullied him for being a Potter. For reminding him of his father, and having his mother’s eyes. The entire school had turned on him during second year, just because he could talk to snakes.  
Harry shook his head. He picked up the glowing red stone. Should he? Should he try to find his birth father?  
Harry did not know what to think of him now. On one hand, he had just abandoned the woman and child he claimed to love. On the other hand, he claimed to be attempting to protect Harry from suffering for his own past mistakes. Yes, Harry still suffered a horrible childhood under the Dursleys' tender care. But how was he to know this would happen? He had apparently left before Voldemort targeted Harry. It's the thought that counted, right? But why didn't he come to check in almost 14 years?  
Harry shook his head. He got up from the bed and, with one final glance, left the room.  
  
When he met Sirius and Remus, he explained the contents of the letter.  
"I've just got one question." Harry said. "Who exactly was Alice?"  
The two men exchanged a look.  
"Alice was one of Lily's closest friends from Hogwarts." Remus replied. "Soon after graduating, she married Frank Longbottom."  
"Longbottom?" Harry asked. "Does that mean... That they were Neville's parents?"  
The two men nodded.  
"They were also on the list of potential candidates for your guardianship." Sirius said. "That is until..."  
"Don't tell me." Harry said quickly. At the men's strange looks, Harry elaborated. "This is Neville's private business. I don't want to pry."  
There was a few seconds of silence.  
"So," Sirius said slowly. "What are you going to do?"  
Harry thought over it for a few seconds.  
"Well," He began. "First I'm going to attempt to find this Murtagh. If things go well, I might see if I could live with him."  
"And if they don't?" Sirius asked.  
Harry shrugged and turned to Remus.  
"Still willing to let me move in with you?"  
Remus nodded.  
"Good. Because as soon as I've gotten all of my stuff out of that house, I'm never returning to the Dursleys. After what happened last summer with blowing up Aunt Marge, I’m pretty sure the only thing keeping them from seriously hurting me is the threat of my mass murdering Godfather. But I'm not sure how long that will last for."  
Sirius chuckled.  
"If you want, I could blow up their door and threaten them with a few sparks."  
Harry chuckled.  
"No. As I said, after I've got my stuff, I'm never going back there."  
"But how are you even going to find Murtagh?" Remus asked.  
"With the stone." Harry replied.  
"Yes, but how are you going to get to where he is?"  
"With my broom." Harry replied. "I'll just tie my trunk to the end of it... Errr, do you think one of you could put a featherweight charm on it so it doesn't way me down...?” At their nod he continued. “And follow the stone."  
The two men looked at each other.  
"Fine then." Sirius replied. "When are you going to do this?"  
"Tonight." Harry said. "That way, I'll have the cover of darkness to start off with. Meet me at the corner of Privet Drive. Or you could wait outside the kitchen window if you want to see me throw a few choice words in their faces."  
  
Harry checked his trunk. He had managed to pack all of his meagre belonging in just a few hours. He was now almost ready to leave Number 4, Privet Drive, forever. All he needed to do now was say his farewells to the Dursleys.  
He turned to look at Hedwig, his ever faithful snowy owl. He took her out of the cage he was forced to keep her in during the summer and smiled at her.  
"We're leaving Hedwig." He said gently. "No more Uncle Vernon yelling for you to shut up. And no more stupid cages."  
To emphasize his point, Harry walked to the window, opened it, and threw the cage out.  
"Go find Sirius and Remus. I'll be out in a minute."  
Hedwig hooted in delight and flew out of the window. Harry smiled and closed it. He knew that Hedwig would find Sirius and Remus.  
Harry grabbed his trunk in one hand and his broom in the other. He then proceeded to drag his trunk down the stairs. He stopped at the door to the kitchen, where the Dursleys were having dinner. Harry cleared his throat and they all looked up.  
"What do you want?" Snarled Uncle Vernon through a mouthful of food.  
Harry grinned.  
"Oh, I've just come to inform you that I'm leaving."  
All three Dursleys looked shocked.  
"What do you mean, leaving?" Aunt Petunia finally asked.  
"I mean, I will no longer be living here." Harry replied slowly.  
"Just like that, you're just leaving?" Aunt Petunia asked.  
"I would have thought you'd be happy." Harry said. "After all, you clearly hate me. And believe me, the feeling is mutual. So, I will be leaving and I won't have to see you ever again. It's not that I don't love living here, it's just... I don't love living with you."  
Harry had to suppress a laugh as Uncle Vernon's face became a very deep shade of purple. He had always been afraid, when the man would become such a colour. Now that he was leaving... He thought he might as well enjoy angering the man who had caused him so much pain, one last time.  
"Why you... You little... How dare you... After all we've done..."  
Harry adopted a pensive expression.  
"After all that you have done. What have you done? Lets see... You have starved me, beaten me, made me live in a cupboard for ten years... The only clothes you ever gave me were Dudley's old worn out hand-me-downs... I've been forced to do all the house work like cooking, cleaning and gardening since I was five... Oh, and lets not forget that every time something went wrong in your lives, you would lock me in my cupboard without food for days. You constantly called me names like freak, to the extent that I didn't even know my own name until I started school and I didn't answer when the teacher called my name out. Not to mention that you told me my parents were drunks who died in a car crash, when really they died protecting me from basically magic Hitler. So yeah, I feel justified in what I say."  
"You.. You can't leave." Squeaked Aunt Petunia.  
Harry cocked his head in confusion.  
"Why not?" He asked.  
"Because... Because Dumbledore told us..."  
Harry laughed.  
"Since when do you answer to the "Crackpot old fool"?"  
Harry turned to leave.  
"I best be leaving. My wanted Godfather and my Werewolf friend are waiting for me. Goodbye. I'd say it was nice to know you, but it wasn't."  
And with that, Harry left the house he had been forced to call home for almost 13 years. Hedwig flew over to him and landed on his shoulder. He turned to see Sirius and Remus standing outside of the kitchen window.  
"Well, what did you think?" He asked.  
Sirius whistled.  
"That was more dramatic than when I left my parent's house. And in that there were flying curses and everything."  
"Was all that you said true?" Remus asked. "About how you were treated growing up."  
Harry merely shrugged.  
"It doesn't matter. All of that is in the past. Now is one of you going to help me with my trunk or not?"  
After Remus applied a featherweight charm to Harry's trunk he tied it to the broom with enchanted ropes, so that the knots did not untie themselves or break during the flight.  
Harry said his goodbyes to the two men and mounted his broom. He kicked off the ground and Hedwig began to fly beside him.  
With the stone securely in his pocket where he could still feel it's warmth, he followed where it led him. For the first time in his life, Harry felt free.


	3. An unexpected reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Murtagh meet, and emotions are high.

Chapter 2:  
  
Harry had been flying for about a week now. His only companion over land, sea and sky had been Hedwig. His only guide was the mysterious red stone.  
The stone seemed to be growing hotter the further he went in one direction. Therefore, he had been steadily heading in a somewhat northwesterly direction. He was no expert in geography, so he was unable to mentally visualize even his general position on a map. He didn't want to admit he was lost, but...  
Thankfully, he had Hedwig. He didn't know how, but she always had a very good sense of direction. Harry appreciated this quality, almost as much as her dedication to him.  
Throughout their journey, Hedwig had flown by his side. And when she grew tired, she perched herself on Harry's shoulder.  
Harry himself did not exert to much energy, as he mostly had to steer his broom in the right direction. The majority of his energy was spent on the thrill of flying. He had always loved the sensation of being free in the air. Free from all the stress in the world. Free from people gawping at him for something that happened when he was a baby. Free from people's attitudes and opinion concerning him changing at the drop of a hat because of something stupid like rumours...  
Harry of course had to rest every night. If he was flying over land, he would find a deserted location and set up camp. If he was stuck over sea, he would find the largest mass of rock and set camp up there. Hedwig would always be there with him. When he would lay down, she would snuggle up to him so that they were both sharing each other’s warmth in the cold of the night. Hedwig was truly a great friend. But as great as she was, she could not keep up a proper two way conversation. The closest that she and Harry got to such interactions was Harry talking to her and Hedwig hooting, pecking at him and ruffling her wings. Harry thought that he should be a little more concerned that he thought he could actually understand her most of the time. But he couldn't bring himself to care. Still, even with their interactions, there was, more often than not, long periods of silence where Harry was left to his own thoughts.  
During those times, he attempted to figure out what exactly he wanted to say to Murtagh.  
While his actions had been questionable, he also believed that Murtagh somehow did care about him. After all, why would he leave a means for Harry to find him?  
But still, Harry was a bit resentful that he had just run off and never, in fourteen years, bothered to even check on the woman and child he claimed to love. Honestly, what kind of a person does that. Just abandons their kid and doesn't even send a Christmas card, for fourteen years.  
Okay, maybe Harry was just a little more than a bit resentful. But considering that he had had to grow up with the Dursleys, who could blame him?  
Harry remembered when he was younger and longed for some long lost relative to whisk him away from the place he was forced to call home. All this time, he thought he had no one but the Dursleys. And now... Now he was flying with a magical stone and Hedwig to find his long lost Daddy.  
Harry wondered if they had anything in common. Everyone at Hogwarts kept saying that he was similar to his father, whom they all, including him, had thought been James Potter.  
But what of Murtagh? Did he like flying as much as Harry did?  
Would they have anything in common or would they be completely different?  
And then, came the questions which Harry was most afraid of. What if he didn't accept him? What if he blamed Harry for his mother's death?  
Harry shook his head. He wouldn't find these answers until he met him. There was no point in worrying.  
And anyway, even if it didn't work out between the two of them, he would still have Remus and Sirius. Remus had even said that he would let Harry move in with him. So even if he and Murtagh didn't get along, Harry was never going back to the Dursleys.  
Harry had just finished another mental debate with himself when he could feel a sudden warmth coming from his pocket. The stone had become suddenly very hot. Harry thought that this could only mean one thing. That he was getting, really, really close.  
He turned to where Hedwig was flying next to him.  
"Come on, girl!" He yelled over the wind. "We're almost there!"  
Hedwig hooted loudly, before swooping over to land on his shoulder.  
"Ha, lazy feathers!" He said, laughing. "Just when we're on the home stretch you decide to take a break."  
Hedwig merely hooted and nipped at his ear.  
"Alright, alright." He said, laughing. "Sorry. You can just sit there... Or is it stand there...? Oh never mind, it's okay. We're almost there anyway."  
Sure enough, after only about ten minutes, Harry could see land ahead.  
It appeared to be a large island, with huge buildings and several figures in the sky.  
Harry remembered that his mother's letter had told him Murtagh was something called a dragon rider. He supposed that there were even more of these dragon riders here.  
Harry chuckled.  
"Hagrid would love this."  
Hedwig hooted in agreement.  
Harry grinned. "Let's hope the dragons here are nicer than Norbert."  
Hedwig seemed to hoot something that sounded strangely like laughter.  
Quickly, Harry pulled his invisibility cloak from his pocket.  
"Here, come under here. I know it can be annoying, but come on. We don't want these people spotting us unless we want them to."  
Eventually, Harry was able to convince Hedwig to go under the cloak with him.  
He looked long at the distant land mass. The stone was becoming as hot as pavement on a hot summer day. He was close. Really, really close. If he continued, there was no going back.  
Harry took a deep breath to strengthen his resolve. Finally, wearing the cloak and with Hedwig on his shoulder, he flew toward the mysterious land mass, and his father.  
  
Murtagh was sitting just outside one of the many large fields on the island where Eragon had decided to begin his new Rider Academy. It was just off the shore of Alagaësia, large enough to be inhabited by a large amount of dragons, and until fifteen years ago, completely unoccupied.  
He and Thorn were watching some of the new Riders fly with their dragons and practice aerial combat. There were a few who were having their first experience of flying on their dragons. Murtagh smiled as he thought of his first experience flying with Thorn. While he had hated being forced to serve Galbatorix, he was still amazed once he and Thorn entered the air for the first time. In the air, even if he was almost always under the orders of Galbatorix, he felt free. As if he was not a slave to a Tyrant. Flying was how Murtagh and Thorn escaped their misery.  
Many of the riders were young. While Eragon did try to avoid small children, it did not stop adolescents as young as thirteen from trying to see if an egg would hatch for them. Currently, the youngest rider was fourteen.  
As young as Harry,  
Murtagh thought.  
After they had left England, they had found it really difficult to stay away. While in his mind, Murtagh knew it was the right thing to do, in his heart he longed to fly back and hold his son close, where no one could hurt him.  
It was only the memories of how he was hated by all of Alagaësia, and the thought that Eragon would eventually come looking for him, that kept Murtagh away.  
Eventually, his prediction did come true.  
Three years after he left England, he and Thorn were travelling through Greece. Murtagh and Thorn had been travelling through the Mediterranean for six months at that point. Murtagh knew that he risked temptation, being so close to England. He hoped that being on the other side of the continent would lesson the urge to fly to England.  
Both he and Thorn were discussing whether or not they should go further east, when all thoughts of England were pushed out of their minds. Murtagh was honestly surprised to see Eragon, sitting at a table in front of a coffee shop.  
Once he recovered from the shock, he sat down to talk with his brother.  
Murtagh learnt of how Eragon had found a deserted island several kilometres off of the short of Alagaësia. Once he and Saphira confirmed it was inhabitable, they got to work building.  
They in listed the help from all of the races of Alagaësia. Elves, humans, dwarfs and even Urgals assisted in the construction of Eragon’s new Rider Academy. The end result was a large building for all of the dragons and riders to live in, and several smaller houses for important visitors. This was only the beginning of it, and Eragon hoped for more construction, in the future. The current buildings apparently had the appearance of several cultures, blended together. Thankfully, all of the construction groups were able to find a way to work together, so that the style flowed together seamlessly.  
All that had to be done now was to find new Riders.  
While no eggs had hatched yet, they were expecting the first few generations would be hard, as they were establishing a whole new order. Both Eragon and Saphira were quickly feeling the pressure of having to train so many at once. While there was also Arya and Firnen, the elf was also responsible with ruling the Elves. So the majority of the work regarding the Riders fell upon Eragon and Saphira. While they had known for some time that they would have to be the ones to rebuild an entire order, there is a large difference between knowing something, and experiencing something.  
Hence, Eragon and Saphira had decided to take a few months to themselves, before their duty forced them to fly around Alagaësia and find new riders. They had also become curious as to where Murtagh and Thorn were, and how they were coping. So, they spent their little break looking for them.  
When Eragon asked how Murtagh and Thorn were, neither dragon nor rider mentioned their time in magical England. It wasn't that he didn't trust Eragon. It was just that he wanted to keep his son a secret until the time was right.  
Eventually, they got to discussing what all of them planned for the future. By some impulse, both Thorn and Murtagh agreed at the same time to offer to help Eragon and Saphira with their problems concerning the new Rider order.  
Murtagh knew it would be hard, as neither of them would be trusted by any of the new riders. They would both be going back to where they would be hated for something neither of them had a choice in. But they also knew that this would happen eventually. They hoped that if the new riders saw that Eragon trusted them enough to have them assist in teaching the new riders, then maybe, they would begin to also trust Murtagh and Thorn.  
Murtagh thought, or more rather hoped, that if he was able to gain the trust of the dragon riders, then he would be able to seek out Harry and reunite with him. The sooner he and Thorn altered how people viewed them, the sooner it would be safe for Harry in Alagaësia, or at least near Alagaësia.  
So Murtagh and Thorn returned to the new Rider's academy with Eragon and Saphira. Both he and Eragon agreed that it would be best if the latter was the one to find the new riders, while the former remained on the island.  
At first, the new Riders were terrified of him. But as time went on, things began to change. Soon new riders who were to young to have known the horrors of the last war came to the island. The older riders, eventually, grew to somewhat trust them. At least, they began to stop seeing them as the monsters from their nightmares. However there was still the stigma which came from being the son of Morzan.  
Despite this, Murtagh thought that soon, it would be safe for Harry to come.  
It would either be that Murtagh and Thorn flew to England, or that Harry used the stone that Murtagh had left him to find them.  
He had left the stone so that Harry did not feel as if Murtagh had completely abandoned him. Murtagh hoped that Harry was not too angry with him. Though he would understand if he was. Harry had barely been a few hours old when Murtagh had left.  
He knew that with Lily's tender love and care, Harry would grow up right. Though he knew their relationship was over, Murtagh was still grateful toward the witch for all she had done. She had helped both him and Thorn so much, when the memories of what they had been forced to do still echoed through their minds. She had been the first one to not instantly hate him for who his father was, and for that he would be forever grateful. Yes, with her beautiful heart and soul, Harry would grow up loved and accepted.  
Or at least, that is how Murtagh hoped his son grew up.  
Not a day went by that he did not think of what could have been, with Lily and Harry. If only.  
As he sat and watched the young riders, he thought of his young son. He would be fourteen in a month's time. Murtagh wondered if an egg would hatch for Harry. Being a dragon rider seemed to run in families, if he and Eragon were any indication considering both of them had had Dragon Riders for fathers.  
Murtagh was broken out of his musings by a sudden sensation. It would appear that the wards had been breached.  
During Murtagh's time in England, while he had not gotten a wand, he found that he could still find a way to use some form of their magic. He found that runes could still be used, without a wand. It was just a matter of transferring energy to power them.  
When Murtagh had first come to the new Rider's academy, he had set about erecting wards around the entire island, so that they would have a warning before a potential attack. It had taken several days and a lot of energy, but he had succeeded in securing the safety of the island from outside threats. However, they were linked with his magic. Therefore, if any threats were to ever breach the wards, he would be the only one notified.  
Eragon had been amazed at the rune work, and had asked who taught him such magic. Murtagh had just replied with "Someone I met in my travels". It had been of course Lily, who had taught him ancient runes. Another reason to be thankful to her.  
Murtagh accessed the intruder. Two life forms. One appeared to be an animal of some form. Another appeared to be... A wizard.  
How had a wizard found this place?  
Quickly, Murtagh was able to work through his shock. He sent a mental message to Eragon.  
[Eragon, get everyone inside now.]  
[Why? Is there a threat? If so, do you not think you will need help?]  
[Thorn and I will be fine. Just do it.]  
Quickly, Eragon sent out a mental message for everyone to go into the main hall. Thankfully, it only took a few minutes.  
Murtagh climbed onto Thorn and entered the sky. Through the wards, he knew that the wizard was flying. This most likely meant he was on a broom. Murtagh and Thorn flew to where he could sense the wizard, only to find that there was no one in sight. This could only mean that the wizard was using magic to conceal himself.  
"Whomever is there, it would be best to reveal yourself!" He said.  
A few moments later, the wizard was revealed to be... An adolescent. He looked around twelve or thirteen. A snowy white owl was perched on his shoulder. He appeared to indeed be riding a broom. He wore very older, raggedy clothes. Murtagh observed that the boy had been concealed by what appeared to be an invisibility cloak. A cloak which seemed familiar. The boy's hair was extremely dark brown, almost black. However, the most shocking feature, were his eyes. Those bright, green eyes. The eyes that he had only seen in two faces. The eyes that he had not seen in almost fourteen years.  
The boy put his hand in his pocket, then quickly took it out again. He looked at Murtagh with an expression the rider could not place.  
"So, you are Murtagh?"  
Murtagh could only nod.  
"Hi, I'm Harry."  
Murtagh knew who he was. He knew from the moment he saw those green eyes. A long and awkward silence followed. Eventually, Murtagh cleared his throat.  
"Well... You must have travelled a long way, and I'm sure we have... Much to talk about. May we go somewhere a little more private?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"Lead the way."  
The three of them, plus the owl, flew to the ground. Once they landed, Murtagh noticed there appeared to be a trunk attached to the end of Harry's broom.  
"Do you need any help with that?" He asked.  
Harry shook his head.  
"There's a feather-weight charm on it."  
Quickly, Harry untied the trunk. He then slung his broom over the opposite shoulder to the arm that was dragging the trunk. The owl once again perched itself upon Harry's shoulder.  
"Okay, I'm ready when you are." He said.  
So Murtagh led the way to the main hall. He was going to attempt to use a course that would insure they did not bump into anyone, as Murtagh could sense he would have to answer enough uncomfortable questions with Harry, let alone Eragon.  
Unfortunately, the hall had large windows.  
[Murtagh.]  
Eragon said to him mentally.  
[What is going on? Who is this child?]  
[I will answer your questions later.]  
Murtagh replied.  
With that he reinforced his mental barriers. It was at times like this he was thankful that his mental barriers were some of the strongest in Alagaësia.  
He glanced over at Harry. He was shorter than Murtagh would have liked. He was also extremely skinny, to the point of malnourishment. His glasses were absolutely covered with tape, to the point where he could not see the original frames. His clothes were old, ill fitting, and very warn.  
This felt wrong. Surely Lily would have taken better care of him. Even if, somehow she was unable to have a proper income, she would still have the support of her friends such as James and the Longbottoms. So why did Harry appear this way? A sense of dread appeared in Murtagh's stomach. What had happened in the last fourteen years?  
Soon, they reached Murtagh's private study.  
As he was one of the teachers and by default part of the new Rider Council, Eragon had given Murtagh his own private study. Murtagh mostly used it for when he wanted some privacy. He had even gone so far as to arrange privacy wards through the use of runes. Today, it would serve the purpose of giving Murtagh and Harry a location for a private discussion.  
They sat on opposite sides of the wooden desk. For a long time, they just looked at each other. Finally, Murtagh broke the tension.  
"So... How long ago did you learn of the truth?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"About a week ago."  
Murtagh could not tell what Harry was feeling. The child seemed to be practiced in showing no outward emotions. Murtagh found this concerning.  
"I hope your mother explain this to you gently."  
Harry shrugged again.  
"The letter seemed nice."  
Murtagh was shocked.  
"A letter? She told you in a letter? Why... Why did she not tell you in person?"  
Murtagh could feel the sense of dread growing. Lily would have never done such a thing if she could have told her son in person. So what had happened to her?  
For the briefest of moments, Harry's face turned dark, sorrowful, and even a bit angered.  
"She couldn't tell me in person because she is dead."  
Murtagh could feel his entire world spin.  
Dead? Lily, dead? The woman he had loved... The woman he still loved... The bright light that had set his world ablaze and dragged him out of the pit of despair that he had fought all his life... Dead? Murtagh could barely speak.  
"How?" He finally said weakly.  
Harry's fist tightened.  
"Almost thirteen years ago... On Halloween. We were attacked by Voldemort. She and... James Potter... Were killed. Then Voldemort tried to kill me. But somehow, by some miracle, I survived. It was me that Voldemort wanted, but they stood in the way."  
Murtagh silently thanked James, for yet again he had proved his kindness. The man had died for a child that wasn't even his flesh and blood, and for a woman who he still loved but he knew would never think of him that way again. Then he thanked Lily, for her bravery in the face of one of the darkest wizards in modern history. Then he looked at Harry.  
"How... How did you come out unscathed from such a dark wizard?"  
"Well, not exactly unscathed." Harry replied. He pulled up his hair to reveal a jagged lightning bolt shaped scar. "Other than that, no one knows how I survived."  
Murtagh took a few moments to process his thoughts. Finally, he continued.  
"So... If James and... And Lily are dead, then who took care of you?"  
There was definitely an expression of anger on Harry's face.  
"Mum's sister, Aunt Petunia."  
Murtagh blinked. Petunia? Who in their right mind thought that giving Harry to her was a good idea?  
Murtagh had never met Petunia, but he had heard enough of her. He remembered the night when Lily had returned from her parents funeral. She had been in absolute tears. Apparently, Petunia had blamed her for their deaths, even if they had only gotten caught in the crossfire. She had called Lily a freak, and said that she wanted nothing to do with her.  
Lily had also told him of Petunia's husband, Vernon Dursley. Apparently, he hated everything that wasn't what he considered normal. Magic would most definitely fit into the category of abnormal, for the Dursleys.  
Murtagh knew that Harry would be hated by the Dursleys for not fitting into what they viewed as normal. From what Murtagh had heard, Petunia was petty enough to take out her hatred for her sister on Harry. And this was what Murtagh wanted to avoid in the first place. The whole purpose for him leaving was so that Harry could grow up, unburdened by hatred for things that were out of his control. How could have the plan blown up so spectacularly?  
"Why were you there?" He found himself asking. "Wasn't there anyone else who could care for you? Sirius? The Longbottoms?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"Sirius was locked in Azkaban for twelve years, and Remus didn't think that it would be safe for a werewolf to care for a baby. I don't know what happened to the Longbottoms. Their son, Neville, is one of my dorm mates, but I never asked him. I didn't want to invade his privacy."  
Murtagh exhaled heavily.  
"This was not meant to happen. You living with the Dursleys, I mean. We all knew of Petunia and Vernon's feelings toward anything magical, and agreed that it would be a bad idea, as they would most likely mistreat you. And judging by your appearance alone, this was most definitely the case. Would it be too much to ask how they mistreated you?"  
Harry took on a dark expression.  
"Oh, lets see." He began. "Forced to use a cupboard as a bedroom for ten years. Only being fed small portions of food. Being told on a daily basis that I am a freak who should have died in the car crash with my drunken parents. Being told that my parents were drunks who died in a car crash. Being forced to do housework from the age of five, such as cooking, cleaning, garden, and being expected to do everything perfectly. Being punished when the slightest thing went wrong, these punishments consisting of starvation and being locked in the spider infested cupboard for days on end. Having to deal with everyone in the neighbourhood being told I am a no-good hooligan, which caused me to have no friends... Well that and everyone was afraid of my cousin... Did I mention that my cousin, Dudley's favourite past time was Harry hunting?"  
It seemed as if Harry had been holding this back for some time.  
"And then, just before I turn eleven the house practically gets attacked by letters. This of course drives Uncle Vernon bonkers. We eventually get cornered on a rock in the middle of the sea by a very large man with a magic umbrella. I learn I'm a wizard and that my parents were murdered. Oh, and that apparently I'm a celebrity for doing something when I was in nappies. And now the fun part starts."  
Harry took a deep breath.  
"The moment I enter the Leaky Caulderon, I get mobbed by people wanting to shake my hand and say hello and stuff. Everything seems to be great at first. I have money, I get to learn magic... Oh, but no. Nothing can be perfect. For you see, the wizarding world have some sort of hive mind, and they change their opinions at the drop of a hat. One minute, they are practically worshiping me as the second coming of Merlin or something. But the minute I mess up, they turn on me. But we're getting ahead of ourselves, aren't we? Let me tell you about Hogwarts..."  
Murtagh was horrified. Every year seemed to be a new struggle for Harry. Three headed dogs and several other traps guarding a stone that he and two other first years had to go through, only to meet one of his teachers on the other end. And if that wasn't bad enough, the teacher had Voldemort on the back of his head.  
His second year being haunted by a mysterious voice only he could hear. Students getting petrified and the world’s most incompetent teacher. Being hated by the entire school for speaking parsletongue, a gift which until that point he had no idea of having. Murtagh felt as if he were going to be sick when he heard of how Harry had almost died due to basilisk venom.  
He had to clutch his desk very tightly when Harry told him of the dementors, and his reaction to them. He could hardly imagine the horror of having to hear Lily's last moments, over and over again. At least Lupin was there to help him. He was angered when he had heard of Pettigrew's betrayal. He had never trusted that rat, and here was only more reason to hate him.  
Finally, Harry finished his rant.  
"... And now, yet again I learn that people have been keeping secrets from me, and that all along my dad's been alive, and he never bother to visit."  
Harry slumped down, seemingly exhausted from his long tirade. Murtagh struggled to find words.  
"I... I am truly sorry for all that has happened. This was what I intended to avoid. I will understand if you hate me."  
Harry looked at him for a long time. Finally he spoke.  
"I don't hate you."  
Murtagh blinked.  
"You don't?"  
Harry shook his head.  
"Yes, I'm angry at you. But I guess I kind of understand where you were coming from. And hay, you must have cared if you left me a magical stone to find you."  
"Of course I care." Murtagh replied. "I did all this for you. I only wanted to keep you where you would be safe and loved."  
Harry smiled bitterly.  
"Well done." He said, a note of sarcasm in his voice.  
Murtagh took a deep breath.  
"So, what do you plan now?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"Well, I was planning on coming here, to meet you and to see if we could work things through. Or maybe I just had a few choice words I wanted to throw in your face. Either way, if you want me, I could stay here. At least until the new term starts. And if things don't work out, then Remus has agreed to let me stay with him, as we think it would now be safer, as I'm not a baby any more. No matter what happens, I'm never going back to the Dursleys."  
Murtagh slumped back in his chair.  
"There is an empty room near mine. You are welcome to stay for as long as you want. I'll talk about it with Eragon, my brother, but I'm sure he will welcome you too. I will take you there right now and then go talk to him while you unpack and settle down with your owl."  
"Hedwig." Harry said.  
"I beg your pardon?"  
"Her name is Hedwig." Harry replied. He stroked the owl who was still perched on his shoulder. For the first time, a smile flickered over his face.  
They both got out of their chairs and left the study. Murtagh led Harry down the corridors to his private living quarters. All of the bedrooms had a balcony where the Riders could be close to their dragons if the need arose. Murtagh had gone as far as to put runes on the balconies which would increase their size outward, so that larger dragons could perch on them. So far the largest dragons were Saphira and Thorn.  
Murtagh's sleeping quarters were relatively isolated for various reasons, such as him wanting privacy, him being a member of the council, and mostly because most of the riders were still hesitant to trust him completely. This was beneficial for Murtagh and Harry at this moment, as it meant that father and son would have privacy, without any other Riders. Or at least, until they were ready to be discovered.  
Murtagh thought that Eragon must be keeping the Riders distracted while he conducted his business, as the corridors were still deserted. Once they got to the door of where Harry would be staying, Murtagh opened it before Harry could.   
"It's already furnished." He said. "As you can see, there is not much."  
Harry shrugged.  
"It's got a bed, a desk and a wardrobe, and they all look in good condition. It's already beating the Dursleys."  
With that, he entered the room and laid his trunk at the foot of his bed. He looked at Murtagh.  
"Thanks." He said quietly.  
Murtagh smiled.  
"If you have any problems, or if you just want to talk, I'm always available."  
"Thanks." Harry repeated, a little more strongly.  
Just as Murtagh turned to leave, Harry said, "Oh, and when we're both done with what we're doing, it's your turn for story time."  
Murtagh blinked and turned to Harry.  
"Story time?" He asked.  
"Yeah." Harry said. "I mean, all that Mum's letter said was that you have "A dark past.". I want to hear about it."  
Murtagh took a deep breath. "Alright."  
Finally, he turned around. For now, he had to go talk to his brother.


	4. The sins of the father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murtagh gives Harry a family history lesson.

Chapter 3:

Murtagh walked through the halls of the Rider's academy, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He was planning to talk to Eragon as soon as possible. He knew that this conversation was inevitable, so he wanted to get it over with. As he walked, he sent a mental message to Eragon.  
[Eragon, you can let everyone out now. I need you to meet me in my study as soon as you can. I will explain soon.]  
Finally, he entered his study and sat in the chair behind his desk. He took advantage of Eragon not being there to let his emotions loose.  
He had not wanted to show to much of his true emotion in front of Harry, as he knew that he would have to be strong for his son. Now that he was in privacy, however, he let his mask slip off.  
For the first time in a long time, Murtagh put his head in his hands and sobbed. His whole body shook with every breath.  
How could he have been so foolish?  
What could he have been thinking, leaving the woman he loved and his new born child in a war-zone. He had foolishly thought that they were better off without him. He had believed that Harry would grow in safety with the love and affection that he himself had been denied.  
But no. Lily had been killed and Harry had been raised by people who hated him for his mere existence.  
His chest ached every time he thought of her fate. She had had so much to live for. She should have been allowed to flourish like the flower she was. She should have had a life time of joy with her friends and her son. And possibly him.  
Lily had burnt so brightly. A child of light, shining star. Fire in her heart.  
She had come into his world like the blazing sun comes to light a new day. She had given Murtagh what he had hardly ever experienced in his life. Hope.  
With Lily, the world was brighter.  
But now that light was gone forever.  
In his mind he could see her as clearly as he had almost fourteen years ago. Her vibrant red hair. Her emerald eyes, so full of life and kindness. Her beautiful smile and the way it lit the entire room.  
He remembered Harry describing to him what he heard when he was near dementors. Of how, in her final moments, she had not begged for her own life, but for that of her child.  
Selfless until the end.  
He thought, the smallest of smiles gracing his face. But then his expression darkened.  
How could he have been so weak? He had had the power to fight Voldemort. But no, he had selfishly decided not to, all because he wanted to avoid conflict.  
If he had been stronger, if he had stood and fought against Voldemort, done more to protect the woman and child he loved...  
Maybe Lily would still be alive and Harry wouldn't have grown up being treated like he was worthless. Maybe, if he had just snapped out of his own self pity for more than five seconds, he could have actually been the father Harry deserves.  
Instead he was a weak coward who ran away when the people who could have been his family needed him most. And now the woman who had saved him from his own mind was dead and his child had suffered just as much, if not more, than he ever had.  
He had failed Lily. He had failed Harry. He had failed himself.  
"Murtagh?"  
Murtagh's head shot up to see Eragon standing in the doorway. Evidently, Murtagh had been too lost in his thoughts to notice his brother approaching.  
"Are you... crying?" He hesitantly asked. Murtagh could not blame him. He was always hiding his true emotions behind a mask, never letting anyone see any weakness that may be exploited. Now however...  
In the face of what he had learnt, of the consequences of his actions, he was unable to muster the strength to hold his mask.  
"It's... Nothing..."  
"It doesn't look like nothing." Eragon retorted, taking the seat on the opposite side of the desk. "Tell me, what is the matter? And who was that child?"  
Murtagh took a deep breath.  
"Well," He began. "His name is Harry. And he... He is my son."  
Eragon blinked in surprise.  
"Your son?" He asked.  
"Yes."  
"You, have a son?"  
"Yes."  
"When and how did this happen?"  
"It is... Complicated."  
"I'm listening." Eragon replied.  
So Murtagh told him. He spoke of how, during his and Thorn's travels, they had discovered a secret society of magic users. He told of the war that had been going on in magical England, led by a dark wizard who sought to rule over those he considered to be unworthy of magic. With his heart still aching, he described his meeting with Lily. He had to be careful not to let his emotions get the better of him again. Without getting into any intimate details, Murtagh told him of how he and Lily had become close.  
Then he told him of how Lily had told him of her pregnancy. He told him of how he felt both overjoyed and scared by the news. He told him of how he feared Harry would grow up and be hated just as he had been. So he explained what he and Lily had planned. Finally, he finished with how the plan had backfired in the worst possible way. He did not give Eragon the fine details of Harry's mistreatment at the hands of his mother's sister and her family, not to mention what he had to endure on a yearly basis from supposedly the safest place in all of magic Britain. It was Harry's private information, after all. He should be able to share it with whom ever he wanted.  
When Murtagh was finished, the room was full of complete silence.  
"So, what you are telling me, is that you have a son, whom you left to be raised by his mother because you didn't want him growing up being hated for events that happened before he was born?"  
Murtagh nodded.  
"Why did you never tell me?" Eragon asked.  
Murtagh sighed.  
"I wanted to keep him as safe as possible. It would appear that I have completely failed at that."  
"You did what you thought was right." Eragon comforted.  
"Yes, and look how well that turned out." Murtagh muttered bitterly. He put his face in his hands again. "I am nothing but a failure."  
Murtagh could hear Eragon's chair scraping against the floor as his brother got up and walked around the desk to stand next to him.  
"You are not a failure." Eragon said, putting a hand on Murtagh's shoulder.  
"I am a failure!" Murtagh practically yelled. "I have failed him as a father. I am no better than Morzan."  
Murtagh suddenly felt Eragon place his other hand on Murtagh's other shoulder.  
"Murtagh, look at me." His brother said forcefully.  
Murtagh looked up at Eragon, his grey eyes looking straight into Eragon's brown.  
"You are not a failure. You are not as bad as Morzan, you are nothing like him. You didn't know that any of this would happen. You thought that you were doing the right thing, and hopefully Harry will understand that."  
Eragon stood straight up and looked at Murtagh. Murtagh took a deep breath.  
"You cannot change the past." Eragon continued. "You may not have been there before, but you can be now. Harry is here, and he obviously wants you, as he wouldn't have come all this way in the first place. This is your chance to make up for the years that you never had. You are not Morzan. You are far better than him in every way. This is your chance to prove it. You do not gain a single thing from misery."  
Murtagh took in a deep breath. Finally, he looked at Eragon.  
"You are right... Thank you."  
Eragon shrugged.  
"What is a brother for?"  
Murtagh smiled. It felt good that he was no longer forced to fight against his brother.  
"So, will you allow Harry to stay?" He asked, already knowing the answer.  
"Of course." Eragon said, beaming. "He is family, after all."  
Murtagh felt relieved. He knew that Eragon would welcome Harry, but it was still good to hear it out loud. Even if the rest of The Riders did not accept his son, he was relieved that at least Eragon would. He knew that Harry needed as much family as he could, considering what he had to grow up with.  
"Now there is only the matter of how we are going to introduce Harry to the rest of The Riders."  
Murtagh frowned.  
"It all depends how Harry wishes to be introduced. I will not take this decision away from him, as this may very well shape how he is viewed here."  
Eragon squeezed his shoulder again.  
"It will be alright Murtagh."  
Murtagh smiled.  
"Thank you."  
He got up from his chair.  
"Now, I must go check on Harry. I left him to organize his belongings in a room close to mine. Before I left he said he wanted to hear my side of the story."  
Eragon sent him an encouraging smile.  
"Good luck then. And do not worry, everything will be fine."  
As Murtagh left the room, he silently hoped that Eragon was right.  
  
After Murtagh left, Harry set about organizing the contents of his trunk. He was hesitant to do much, as he was not sure if this Eragon would let him stay. However, he still placed some of his clothes in the wardrobe, as well as some other things on the desk beside the bed.  
He lent his broom against the side of the wardrobe, just as Hedwig flew on top of it, tucked her head under a wing, and fell asleep. He placed some of his text books and some quills and ink on the desk. He thought he might as well take them out, as he may be able to get some homework done. He looked out of the window. The weather seemed perfect for doing some of his work outside. It would be nice to be able to do his homework without having to do it in the dead of night, in fear that any moment the Dursleys would discover him.  
With shaking hands he pulled a very special book from his bag. It was the photo album that Hagrid had given him at the end of his first year, full of pictures featuring his parents... Well, his mother and James Potter. He still did not know what to think of the man.  
Gently, he placed it on the desk beside the bed.  
Finally, when he was finished setting up his new, hopefully not temporary room, he rummaged through his trunk for the mirror that Sirius had given him before he left. According to Sirius, he and the other Marauders had used them during their Hogwarts years, whenever they had separate detentions. This mirror was connected to other mirrors which acted somewhat like a telephone, only you could actually see the person's face. All you had to do was say the person's name and the corresponding mirror would activate, telling the other person that they were being contacted.  
Before Harry had left, he had promised that as soon as he reached Murtagh he would contact Sirius and Remus and tell them how the meeting went. And that was what he was doing now.  
"Sirius." He said. "Sirius Black."  
The mirror glowed for a minute or two. Then, the glowing faded and Sirius' face appeared in the mirror.  
"Hey, Harry! How's it going? Remus, come on. It's Harry."  
Harry chuckled.  
"Nice to see you too."  
Sirius' face moved slightly to accommodate Remus. It looked rather strange, having both of their faces in the mirror at once.  
"So, did you find Murtagh?" Sirius asked.  
"Yes." Harry replied.  
"And, how did it go?" Remus asked.  
"Well," Harry began sheepishly. "We got talking. Most of it was just me, umm..."  
"Throwing a few choice words in his face?" Sirius supplied.  
"More like, a few hundred." Harry replied. "I may or may not have blown up."  
"How much did you tell him?" Remus asked.  
"A lot. More than I've ever told anyone." Harry replied.  
Sirius whistled.  
"Well, I can't say I didn't expect it."  
"You expected I would blow up?" Harry asked, surprised.  
"We suspected that you were holding back a lot of what you are feeling, and that sooner or later it was going to burst right out of you." Remus replied.  
"And considering what happened when you gave the Dursleys a piece of your mind, I can only imagine that this confrontation was much worse." Sirius added.  
There was a long moment of silence.  
"So," Remus finally said. "How did Murtagh react to you, umm... Blowing up?"  
Harry pursed his lips.  
"He seemed genuinely concerned for me. He also seemed genuinely upset when I told him that Mum is... You know..."  
Harry sucked in a breath.  
"He seemed to be struggling to hold back his emotions, as if he were afraid to express himself."  
Sirius scoffed.  
"I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." He muttered.  
Harry blinked.  
"What do you mean?"  
"Nothing, nothing." Sirius said quickly. "So, what's happening?"  
"Well," Harry began. "He seemed to be willing to let me stay here. The only problem is that he said that he would have to talk to his brother Eragon, my uncle I guess, about it."  
"And how is that a problem?" Sirius asked.  
Harry shrugged.  
"I don't exactly have the best experience with uncles."  
"Well," Sirius replied. "Just look on the bright side. He can't be as bad as Vernon Dursley."  
Harry laughed.  
"Well, Uncle Vernon did set the bar pretty low."  
All three of them laughed. Suddenly, Harry heard a knocking from outside the door.  
"Harry, is everything alright?"  
Harry turned to the mirror.  
"I've got to go. Murtagh's back. Talk to you later?"  
"Definitely." Both Sirius and Remus replied.  
"Talk to you soon." Sirius said before the mirror went blank.  
Harry placed the mirror on the desk. He got up off the bed and walked to open the door.  
"Sorry," He began. "I was just talking to Sirius and Remus. They gave me a magic mirror before I left and asked me to contact them after I found you."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"That is alright."  
Harry let Murtagh into the room.  
"So, what did he say?" Harry asked nervously.  
For the first time, Harry saw a genuine, unmasked smile on Murtagh's face.  
"Eragon was, shocked to hear the news, as I have not told anyone of your existence. However, once he processed the information, he was more than willing to welcome you."  
Harry let out a breath he did not know he had been holding.  
"That's... That's great. I was a little worried for a minute there, because... You know... I haven't exactly had the best of luck when it comes to family..."  
Murtagh put a hand on his shoulder. Harry supposed that this was meant as a gesture of comfort, but he still could not hold back the flinch that came at the contact. Harry did not know for sure, but he could have sworn he saw an expression of sadness flicker over Murtagh's face.  
"Do not worry Harry. You are with proper family now. You can rest assured that Eragon would never do anything to harm you as the Dursleys have."  
Harry smiled weakly.  
"That's... That's good." He replied.  
"The only point of concern," Murtagh continued. "Is how the rest of The Riders will react to you. Though, that really depends..."  
"Depends on what?" Harry asked.  
"On if you wish to be recognized as my son... As Harry Murtaghson."  
Harry thought over it for a few seconds. Harry Murtaghson. It felt strange, to not think of himself as Potter, but he supposed he should start getting used to it. He wondered if it was too soon, or if Murtagh would even want him to. Harry thought that, if he did call himself Murtaghson, then maybe Murtagh would be more accepting of him. He truly wanted to be accepted. But at the same time, he was afraid that Murtagh wouldn't want him to go so far, just yet.  
Finally, he answered.  
"If... If you want me to." He said hesitantly.  
"I would want nothing more than for you to be recognized for who you truly are." Murtagh replied. "I am only concerned that you will face the same treatment I faced. While the past few years have seen much improvement in how The Riders see me, there is still the natural stigma which comes from our particular bloodline."  
"I don't care." Harry replied.  
"You don't?"  
Harry shook his head.  
"I'm kind of used to people making decisions on how they feel about me, without even knowing me. It will be just like dealing with the Slytherins."  
"Well," Murtagh said slowly. "If you are sure..."  
"Yes." Harry replied. "I am sure. I am not going to hide who I am."  
Murtagh smiled, though there was a note of bitterness behind his smile.  
"We shall see if you have the same sentiments after you hear of our family’s history."  
  
When Murtagh had entered the room, he had been nervous. He was afraid that Harry would not want to be recognized as his son. He wouldn't blame him. After all, Murtagh had barely done anything to deserve being recognized as Harry's father. So he was surprised when Harry had agreed straight away. Not only that, but had asked if he, Murtagh, wanted him to be recognized as Murtaghson.  
Though Harry had agreed for him to be introduced as Harry Murtaghson to the other Riders, Murtagh did not know if he would still have such an opinion after he learnt of Murtagh's past.  
Murtagh knew that this was going to be hard. He had decided to be completely honest with Harry. He deserved that much at least. Murtagh would not just tell him of his past, but the entire story, including Galbatorix's rise to power and Morzan's hand in it. He could only hope that Harry was not going to be too disgusted with his lineage.  
Out of the corner of his eye, Murtagh saw Thorn land on the balcony outside of Harry's window. He cleared his throat.  
"Yes, well... What I am about to tell you, it brings back bad memories... For both myself and Thorn. I would feel more comfortable explaining it if we were closer to each other." He gestured towards the window.  
"It's okay." Harry said. "If it makes you comfortable, then I'm okay with it."  
Murtagh let out a sigh of relief.  
Together they both walked to the balcony and opened the glass door. Murtagh walked over to Thorn and leant against his side. Harry hesitated for a few seconds before sitting down next to him.  
"Is it true that he can communicate through your mind?" Harry asked.  
Murtagh raised an eyebrow.  
"Where did you hear about that?"  
Harry shuffled uncomfortably.  
"Mum mentioned that Thorn talked to her in her mind."  
Murtagh felt the corners of his mouth twitch up in a grin.  
"Yes. And once she got over the shock she bombarded him with questions."  
The two of them shared a laugh. Murtagh had to blink to hold back another tear. He had so longed for moments like this. He hoped that they could have more of this.  
[May I speak to him?]  
Thorn asked him.  
Murtagh turned to Harry.  
"Is it alright if Thorn speaks to you?"  
"Okay." Harry replied, seemingly unsure.  
Murtagh watched as Harry's face went from vaguely nervous, to shocked, to excited. Murtagh did not know weather to feel joy or sorrow when he saw that his expression was almost identical to Lily's own, when she had first heard Thorn in her mind.  
"Wow." Harry finally said. "That was incredible."  
Murtagh let a smile grace his face. He had to practice letting more positive emotions show around Harry, while still keeping control of the more negative ones.  
A moment of silence passed. Murtagh was just thinking of how to start. That, and he was still nervous about telling him the whole story, all at once. He had been nervous enough with Lily. And with her, he had told her piece by piece. With Harry, he was about to tell him everything at once. If Murtagh could help it, Harry would never hear the names of Morzan, Galbatorix, and the Forsworn, and he would leave the bad memories of what he had done in the past where they belonged. Unfortunately, this had to be done. Harry deserved to know why a whole continent of people might hate him if he were to ever set foot there. He had a right to know of the blood that ran through his veins. Murtagh could only hope that he did not hate him at the end of it.  
[Are you alright Murtagh?]  
Thorn asked him.  
[I am if you are.]  
He replied.  
[Will you be alright, with me telling Harry all of this?]  
[You cannot stop what is inevitable. You should tell him yourself before he learns of it from another source who may warp the truth.]  
Murtagh knew that he was right. It would be bad enough from his perspective. But if Harry heard it from someone else... Murtagh shuddered to think what would happen if he heard the story from one of the older Riders.  
So Murtagh, as Lily would have said, bit the bullet and began.  
"What I am about to tell you, it is not a pleasant story."  
Harry shrugged.  
"You can always stop if you get uncomfortable."  
Murtagh sighed.  
"Well, you might as well get comfortable."  
Harry leant against Thorn's side hesitantly. Thorn encased them both in his wing, creating somewhat of a red tent. There was space between both Harry and Murtagh that he longed to close. He did not know if harry shared the sentiment. He thought that it may be uncomfortable if he suddenly closed the gap and held him as he had done when Harry was first born, as he had longed to do ever since.  
"Well," He continued. "It all began many centuries ago."  
"Long ago, the land of Alagaësia was protected by The Dragon Riders. Elves and humans whom were bonded to mighty dragons. They were the greatest of warriors and magicians."  
"Then, almost two centuries ago, tragedy struck. A young Rider called Galbatorix had gone with other Riders and dragons, believing themselves invincible, on a venture which would end in all but him losing their lives, including his dragon. When he requested the old Rider Council give him a new dragon, they denied him. This drove him to madness. He murdered another Rider and forced the young dragon, Shruikan, to bond with him. Then he proceeded to begin a rebellion which would see the end of The Dragon Riders, and the near extinction of the dragons as a race. Galbatorix was joined in his rebellion by thirteen Riders who would become known as The Forsworn."  
Murtagh sucked in a breath. This was where the story became difficult.  
"One among them, and the last to fall over a century later, was Morzan."  
Murtagh took a moment to steel himself.  
"Do you... Do you have some sort of connection to him?" Harry suddenly asked. "Morzan I mean."  
"What would make you think that?" Murtagh asked, slightly shocked.  
"It's how you reacted when you said his name." Harry replied. "You looked as if just thinking of him causes you pain."  
Murtagh blinked at how observant his son was.  
"That part of the story will come soon."  
He continued the story.  
"Once The Riders fell, Galbatorix declared himself king of Alagaësia. In a secret vault, he hid the three remaining dragon eggs, in hope of creating a new Rider order in his image."  
"Over time, The Forsworn perished, leaving only Galbatorix and Morzan. However, just over forty years ago, Morzan met a woman. Her name was Selena..."  
"Wait," Harry interrupted. "He met a woman... Was... Was Morzan your... Your father?"  
Murtagh looked down at his hands.  
"Unfortunately." He muttered.  
He continued the story. He spoke of how, when Selena became pregnant, Morzan had hidden her. Once she had given birth, Morzan had kept her separate from her new born son. This son, was Murtagh.  
With great pain, he spoke of Morzan's cruelty. Of how, when Murtagh was barely three years of age, Morzan in a drunken rage had thrown his sword at him, and how even to this day, Murtagh had a jagged scar marring his back.  
"Wow." Harry muttered. "Uncle Vernon was always violent when he drank too much, but this..."  
Murtagh had to clench his fists when he heard this.  
He opted to continue his story. He spoke of how The Varden, a group who fought for the downfall of Galbatorix, had managed to infiltrate Galbatorix's fortress in Uru'bean and steal one of the eggs. Not only that, but the agent, Brom, had managed to kill Morzan.  
He skipped ahead several years to when Galbatorix had summoned him, ordering him to slaughter an entire village, and how this led to Murtagh fleeing Uru'bean.  
He described his hunt for the Ra-zac, and his eventual meeting with Eragon and Saphira. This part of the story was easier, as he had enjoyed the time when he and Eragon had fought side by side. However, this could not last. For eventually, he reached the part of the story where he was captured and taken back to Galbatorix.  
He described how it felt when Thorn hatched for him. How he was both amazed and terrified. He then went on to describe how Galbatorix had discovered both of their true names in the Ancient Language, which meant he had gained complete control over both of them. It hurt to no end to describe his torture at the hands of Galbatorix, and what he was forced to do. But he pushed on. Harry deserved to know the truth, no matter how much it hurt.  
Once he got to the part with Nasuada, he found it was suddenly awkward. While in the few weeks she had been Galbatorix's captive, the two of them had developed a bond which could have led to something more, their paths led in two different directions. She was to become the new ruler of Alagaësia, and he was to be a Dragon Rider. While he no longer held these feelings for her, it was still rather strange to speak of such things with his son.  
Finally, he finished by explaining how he had changed his true name enough to break free of Galbatorix's control, and of how Eragon finally defeated the tyrant king.  
"After we escaped from the collapsing fortress, I had a talk with Eragon by a lake side. Then Thorn and I left Alagaësia to heal from what we had suffered. Three years later we found magical England, and I suppose you can figure out the rest."  
There was a long silence as Harry seemingly processed the information. Murtagh took this time to steady his own thoughts. This had been hard. Reliving the old memories was one thing. But to describe them to someone else, and his own son no less...  
Finally, Harry spoke.  
"I... I think I'm beginning to understand why you did what you did."  
Murtagh blinked.  
"Is that it?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"Don't get me wrong, I'm still angry at you. But I'm beginning to understand why you did what you did."  
Murtagh could hardly believe what he was hearing. This was most definitely not what he was expecting. He had feared that his son would hate him for all that he had done.  
"So, you don't... You don't hate me?" He asked.  
"No, why would I?" Harry asked, surprise evident in his tone.  
"Did I not just tell you of all I had done? I have killed so many, committed horrific crimes..."  
"Did you do all these things willingly?" Harry asked forcefully.  
"No, of course not."  
"Then I don't see why I would hate you for it." Harry replied. "It's not your fault you were forced to do all those things. You're not the villain in this, you are the victim."  
Murtagh looked down. He had to struggle to fight back his tears. But this time, they were not tears of sorrow. They were tears of joy. Joy that his son accepted him, regardless of his history. It was more than he had ever dared hope for.  
"Thank you." He practically whispered.  
Murtagh felt a smaller hand clench his own. He looked up to see that Harry was looking at him with those brilliant green eyes. Those vibrant orbs which reminded him so much of Lily.  
"Don't worry... I get what it's like, being blamed for something that was out of my control. Not on the scale that you experienced, but still... Every time something went the slightest bit wrong, I would get blamed for it, even if I had nothing to do with it."  
Murtagh sucked in a deep breath when he was reminded of how his son had been treated.  
"I was afraid... That when I told you, you would be disgusted by your heritage."  
"I don't see anything wrong with you." Harry replied.  
"I don't mean me. I mean..."  
"Morzan?"  
Murtagh nodded.  
Harry frowned.  
"Well, from what you told me he sounded like a real bastard, possibly as bad as Voldemort."  
Harry looked at him seriously.  
"But you shouldn't let that control your life. I know that when you were young, it was hard for it not to, but that is in the past. You can make your own path."  
Murtagh looked at his son in complete surprise.  
"You are taking this rather well."  
Harry shrugged.  
"Over the past few years, I've learnt a few things."  
"And what is that?" Murtagh queried.  
"That you cannot pick your blood," Harry replied. "But you can pick your family. I mean, just look at how different Mum and Aunt Petunia were."  
A small smile appeared on Murtagh's face.  
"As different as day and night."  
"You see?" Harry said. "Just because Morzan was bad, doesn't mean you are."  
Murtagh could hardly believe what he was hearing. His son was accepting of his heritage, as well as all that Murtagh had done. There was still one burning question that he had to hear the answer to.  
"So, after hearing all of this, do you still wish to be recognised as my son?"  
"Yes, of course." Harry answered without missing a beat.  
Murtagh was unable to stop the tears that were coming.  
"Thank you." He said. "Truly, you are your mother's son. She... She would be so proud of you... Just as I am..."  
Murtagh was court off-guard. He was honestly not expecting to be hugged so forcefully by Harry. His smaller, much thinner body was now practically on top of him. His thin arms were wrapped around Murtagh's middle. At first, he could only sit there in shock. Then, he wrapped his arms around his son and held him close, just as he had wanted to do for almost fourteen years.  
His head was swirling with emotions. He was finally holding his son in his arms. His son did not hate him for all that he had done. He was not ashamed of his heritage. He was not ashamed of him.  
Yes, he could not take back the past. But he could still be there for Harry, now that they were together.  
For a long time, they just sat there, enjoying the contact that had been denied to them for so long. But then, they were interrupted by someone clearing their throat.  
"Am I interrupting something?"  
Both Murtagh and Harry looked up. Thorn had moved his wing so that they were no longer concealed by it. Standing only a few feet away was Eragon, looking sheepish that he had interrupted their moment.


	5. Reputation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry doesn't give a damb about his families bad reputation.

Chapter 4:

Harry sat bolt upright. His face grew warm as he realized that he had been caught hugging Murtagh.  
He hadn't meant to be so dramatic, but his emotions had gotten the better of him. It was just that, hearing what Murtagh said when Harry told him he still wanted to be recognised as Murtaghson, that his mother would be proud of him... That he was proud of him... It was more than Harry could have ever imagined.  
For his entire childhood he wanted nothing more than for someone to love him, to praise him for his accomplishments and to comfort him during his failures. For so long he wondered what his parents would think of him. Would they love him? Would they be disappointed in him?  
For the past week he had been worried that Murtagh wouldn't accept him. He feared that he wouldn't be what Murtagh had imagined him to be, what he wanted him to be.  
So when Murtagh had told him that he was proud of him... Harry couldn't control his joy. He didn't think that he had ever been so happy in his life. Not when he had first flown on his broom. Not when he had learnt he was a wizard... Not even when, for the first time in his life, he had found friends in the forms of Ron, Hermione and Hagrid.  
At first, when Murtagh hadn't reacted, he thought that he had overstepped his boundaries. But then, Murtagh had returned the embrace, and it was as if for the first time in his life, Harry felt complete. He felt at home. He felt loved.  
And then he had heard the clearing of a throat, and he had jumped immediately out of the embrace.  
He looked forward to see a... Man? Harry wasn't sure. He had a feline face, with exotic features, brown hair and eyes, and, strangest of all, pointed ears.  
"Am I interrupting something?" The man asked.  
"Oh, not at all." Murtagh replied sarcastically.  
He turned to him to see that the older man had a note of frustration in his eyes. Harry shot a questioning gaze to him. Murtagh looked at him, then the strange looking man.  
"Ahh, yes. Harry, this is my brother, Eragon Shadeslayer. Eragon, this is my son, Harry." He said, getting up from where he was sitting.  
Harry also got up. He looked at Eragon. Murtagh had mentioned that Eragon had gone through some form of transformation during his training in Ellesméra, the capital city of the elves. Harry was not expecting him to look this different. Though, he could see somewhat of a resemblance between his father and Eragon. Harry supposed that their lack of a strong resemblance was due to them having different fathers.  
Eragon walked to Harry, smiling, and extended his hand. Harry shook it hesitantly.  
"It is a pleasure to meet you Harry." Eragon said. "I must say, you were an unexpected surprise. But you are never unwelcome."  
"Umm, thanks." Harry replied.  
Eragon turned to Murtagh.  
"So, how was it?" Eragon asked. "I'm judging by the way I found you that it went well?"  
Harry blushed again, but Murtagh managed to keep his mask, his eyes showing only a flicker of annoyance.  
"Much better than I expected."  
"Well," Eragon said, still smiling. "Dinner will be in about an hour. I was thinking of introducing Harry to the rest of the Riders then. That is, if you are alright with that?"  
Both men turned to Harry, who shrugged.  
"Might as well. They're going to find out about me sooner or later." Harry replied.  
"Well," Eragon continued. "All that needs to be done now is to decide how you wish to be introduced."  
"I'm okay with being introduced as Murtaghson." Harry replied.  
"Really?" Eragon said, shooting a look at Murtagh which seemed to say "I told you so."  
"Well," Eragon said. "With that settled, I best be leaving. My apologies for the interruption."  
Eragon began to leave, but then Harry stopped him.  
"Wait!"  
Eragon turned to him questioningly.  
"Thank you for, you know... Letting me stay."  
Eragon smiled.  
"You're family. Of course you're welcome."  
Harry's heart tightened. In one afternoon he had received more familial love from people he had just met than he had ever received in thirteen years of living with the Dursleys. Was this what family, real family, felt like?  
After Eragon left, Harry turned to Murtagh.  
"Well, he seems nice." Harry said.  
"Yes, Eragon has a good heart." Murtagh replied, a small smile flickering over his face. "At times, he may be a bit naive, which I find strange considering his constant desire for knowledge. And we have gotten into more than a few arguments. But I feel lucky to have him as a brother."  
Harry smiled.  
"That kind of reminds me of my friend Hermione. She is the most brilliant witch in our year, but she can't seem to get it out of her head that not even authority figures are perfect. And she tends to blow things out of proportion when someone doesn't agree with her. Just last Christmas, I received my firebolt." He gestured to his broom inside the room. "Well, it didn't say who it was from, and she was worried that it was from Sirius Black, who we still thought was out to get me at the time. And so she told Professor McGonagall. It got taken away from me, but thankfully I got it back by the next Quidditch game."  
A smile flickered across Murtagh's face.  
"And, did you ever find out who the broom was from?"  
"Yes, it was Sirius." Harry replied. "But it didn't have a jinx on it. So, both of us ended up being right."  
Both of them shared a laugh.  
Harry was surprised. Was Murtagh's mask breaking? He had been afraid that it would take much, much longer to break through his father's mask. But he supposed that some parental instinct was helping things along.  
"Hey, umm, sorry for, you know, earlier. I didn't mean to attack you with hugs, it's just that... My emotions got the better of me and..."  
Murtagh's face sobered.  
"Don't be sorry Harry. You were perfectly fine. Just remember, if you ever need any form of comfort, you are always welcome."  
Harry's smile returned.  
"Thanks."  
The two smiled at each other.  
"We better start getting ready for dinner." Murtagh said finally. "Are you sure, that you wish to be introduced to the Riders as my son?"  
"Yes." Harry repeated, yet again. "I don't care about our bloodline's reputation. I'm not going to let some long dead monster like Morzan shape how I live my life."  
Murtagh smiled.  
  
Harry looked around at the large dining hall. It was probably as large, if not a little more, than the great hall at Hogwarts. Light flooded in from large windows on either side of the hall, which stretched a metre or two from the ground to near the ceiling. Harry supposed it was so the Riders could see their dragons and vice versa. There were many small tables arranged around the hall, though there were only at most fifty Riders excluding Eragon and Murtagh. In the centre of the hall was a grand table with many platters of food, from which the Riders could select whatever food they wanted. Murtagh had assisted Harry in finding foods that were somewhat familiar to him.  
At the front of the hall there was a long table, much like the staff table at Hogwarts. Murtagh informed him that this was meant to be where The Rider's Council sat. However, the council only consisted of Eragon and Murtagh. Harry was informed that there was a third member, Arya, but that she also had the duty of being the Queen of the Elves.  
Harry had decided to sit with his father, as he did not feel comfortable sitting with complete strangers. Murtagh also didn't want Harry to sit with people who would soon learn of Harry's lineage, and very likely, might hate him for it.  
They had been the first in the hall, so Harry sat at the council table and watched as the entire Rider order arrived.  
When the Riders looked up at the council table and saw Harry, they began to mutter, wondering who this new person was. Murtagh shot him a concerned look, but Harry just shot back a reassuring smile. He was used to mutters.  
Harry marvelled at the diversity of the Dragon Riders. He could see some humans. But there were also beings Harry guessed were elves. Thanks to the descriptions provided by Murtagh when he was tell him his story, Harry could also recognize a few dwarfs and Urgals.  
Once they had all arrived, Eragon called the hall to order. The room went completely silent when he stood up.  
"Thank you." He began. "As you can see, we have a new arrival among us. I would like to introduce you to my Nephew, Harry Murtaghsson. He is from a distant land, and has recently come here to reconnect with his father. I ask that you show him the same hospitality and respect that I expect from you."  
And with that, Eragon sat back down.  
For a long time, the entire hall was silent. Then, the mutters began again in Ernest. This time, the glances they shot Harry were not curious. Instead there was surprise, fear, and, mostly from the Dwarfs, hatred. Harry just ignored them.  
"Are you alright?"  
Harry looked up to see that Murtagh was shooting him an expression of concern. Harry just shrugged.  
"Don't worry, I'm used to it. You should have seen the Hogwarts students when they thought I was the heir of Slytherin."  
Harry turned back to his meal. The food was good. It felt as if he had returned to Hogwarts early. The only difference was that he didn't have Ron and Hermione, and he wasn't sitting at the Gryffindor table.  
  
After Dinner, Harry quickly returned to his room. It felt good to think of this room as his.  
He laid back on his bed and thought about the days events.  
He had to admit, his father was very good at concealing his emotions.  
Harry had become an expert at reading people's emotions. He had to learn from a young age how to tell when someone, primarily Uncle Vernon, was angry. It was vital to his continued survival that Harry learn when it was safe and when he should run for cover.  
Murtagh, Harry could tell, was very good at hiding his emotions. Harry could only catch glimpses of what the man might be feeling. This was difficult for Harry, as it was harder to figure out what to and what to not do. He really, really wanted things to work out between the two of them. But this was made difficult because Harry was scared of making a mistake which would lead to Murtagh becoming angry at him.  
He sighed and turned in the bed. He was now facing the desk where he had put his books and other various belongings. He sat up. Maybe he could get some homework done. Yes, it was now dark out. But maybe he could find some sort of candle and sit out on the balcony.  
He went over to his trunk and rummaged through it. Eventually, he found his box of matches. He would have used magic, only he wasn't sure if the ministry would be able to reach him here or not. So he had to do it the old fashioned way.  
After a further look in his trunk, he realized he had forgotten to pack a candle.  
He sucked in a nervous breath. How was he going to get any work done now? He supposed that he could wait until the morning, but he really needed something to occupy his mind right now.  
Maybe he could ask Murtagh if he had any spare candles? Harry would hate to bother him, but what choice did he have?  
Deciding to muster up his Gryffindor courage, he left his room and walked to the one that Murtagh had indicated was his.  
Hesitantly, he knocked on the door. After a few seconds, the door opened. Murtagh stood there, appearing wide awake. Harry could see the light from a candle behind him.  
"Hi, I'm sorry to bother you..." He began.  
"Do not worry," Murtagh interrupted. "You are welcome any time."  
Murtagh gestured for Harry to come in. Harry entered the room hesitantly.  
Harry looked around the room. It was sparse, save for the usual desk, bed and wardrobe. However, Harry could also see a few books stacked up on the desk, as well as a stand which held pieces of armour. But the thing that caught Harry's eye the most was the sword on the bed.  
Its crimson blade shone in the candlelight. Harry looked at it in wonder. It was truly a beautiful sword. However, Harry could also remember Murtagh describing a sword just like this.  
"Is this...?" He began, gesturing towards the sword.  
"Zar-Roc." Murtagh replied. He walked over to the bed and picked it up. "I was just cleaning it before you came. Not that it needs much cleaning, considering all of the magical protections on it. For the most part it just gets dusty after a while."  
Harry gazed at the sword in amazement.  
"That's, that's the sword that..."  
Murtagh's lips slightly curled into a bitter smile.  
"Many lives have been taken by this blade. It was with this sword that my father marred me for life."  
"Can I... Hold it? Just for a second."  
Murtagh studied him for a while. Finally, he handed the sword, hilt first, to Harry.  
"Be careful. It is very sharp."  
Harry curled his fingers around the hilt. It was slightly heavier than the sword of Gryffindor. But other than that, it was very similar.  
He gave it an experimental swing.  
"I said be careful!" Murtagh said, stepping back.  
"I'm sorry!" Harry said worriedly. "I wasn't trying to hurt you."  
"I'm not concerned about me." Murtagh replied. "I'm only worried that you might hurt yourself."  
Harry looked back down at the sword.  
"I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. This sword, it's just so beautiful. And yet... Why do you keep it, if it's only coursed misery?"  
Murtagh shrugged.  
"I don't know, maybe as a reminder."  
"Of what?"  
"Of what not to become. Of what can happen when someone has too much power."  
Harry looked down at the sword again.  
"This sword has done so much bad... But, isn't this also the sword you used to save Mum with?"  
Murtagh nodded.  
"So maybe, in the right hands, this sword could be used for good." Harry continued.  
Murtagh stared at him.  
"Maybe you are right." He finally said.  
Harry handed the sword back to Murtagh.  
"Thanks. I've just been so interested in swords since last year, when I used the sword of Gryffindor to fight the basilisk."  
"Well," Murtagh replied. "Maybe I could teach you how to use one, if you're willing."  
"Really?" Harry said, excitedly. "That would be great."  
"Great." Murtagh said, smiling. "We could meet in the training yard tomorrow. Usually I am the one who handles the Rider's combat training, but I'm sure Eragon won't mind covering for any lessons I have tomorrow."  
"If neither of you mind." Harry replied.  
"Of course we won't mind. I'll check with Eragon, but I'm sure he will be okay with it, if it means we get to spend more time together."  
Both father and son smiled. Harry was excited because Murtagh actually wanted to spend time with him. More than that, he wanted to teach him how to use a sword.  
"So," Murtagh said after a long silence. "Did you need anything?"  
Harry blinked, trying to remember why he had come to Murtagh in the first place. Then he remembered.  
"Oh, right. I was wondering if you had any candles. I was just going to do some homework, only it's a little dark."  
Murtagh walked over to the desk and opened the draw. From it, he pulled a candle.  
"Thanks." Harry said, taking the candle.  
Harry left the room, but was followed by Murtagh.  
"Are you okay?" Harry asked.  
"Yes." Murtagh replied. "I am only making sure you are alright."  
"I am fine." Harry replied.  
"Will you need any help lighting the candle?"  
"I'll be fine." Harry replied. "I've got some matches."  
"Then will it be alright if I looked at some of your books?" Murtagh asked. "It is just, I have always been curious of your Mother's kind of magic, and there was only so much that she could show me. And Eragon was also curious to see your brand of magic, as he wishes to see if there could be a way of adapting some of the spells so that they can be used by the Riders."  
Harry shrugged.  
"Go ahead."  
They entered the room. Harry took his stack of books, the candle, and his box of matches onto the balcony, where he could smell the night air. It was hard, carrying such a large load, but Harry was used to it because of the Dursleys.  
Harry sat down and lit the candle. Murtagh sat next to him. Harry turned to the stack of books and saw that the top one was his photo album. Gently, he removed the album and placed it to one side. He made to open his potions book, to get all of Snape's work out of the way, but he was interrupted by Murtagh's gasp.  
"What is this?"  
Harry turned to see that Murtagh had picked up the photo album, who's front cover displayed a photo of both his mother and... James Potter, just after they graduated Hogwarts.  
"Oh, that's a photo album that my friend Hagrid, you know, the Gamekeeper at Hogwarts and the one who told me I was a wizard, gave to me at the end of my first year. It's got a bunch of pictures of my Mum and Da... James Potter."  
Murtagh frowned.  
"Harry, I do not mind if you still think of James Potter as your father." He said seriously.  
Harry blinked.  
"You don't?"  
Murtagh shook his head.  
"No. He's just as much your father as I am. And he's done far more to earn the right than I have."  
Harry's face lit up with a relieved, yet unsure smile.  
"That... That's good. I've been very worried about it for the past week."  
"Don't be." Murtagh replied. "As you said. You can't pick your blood, but you can pick your family. For all his flaws, James Potter was a good man. And I will forever be grateful for all he had done for you and your mother."  
Harry smiled.  
"Me too."  
Then he looked down at the potions book.  
"Too bad not everyone sees it that way."  
"Hmm?" Murtagh looked at him questioningly.  
"There's this one teacher who's hated me since day one, just because he hated my Dad."  
"Oh?" Murtagh replied, raising an eyebrow. "And who is this teacher?"  
"The potions teacher. Professor Snape."  
Murtagh dropped the Album. Fortunately, Harry was able to catch it with his seeker reflexes. Harry looked at Murtagh to see that his eyes were wide and his expression both shocked and horrified. His mask had obviously slipped off.  
"What? Did I say something...?"  
"Did you just say Snape?" Murtagh asked. "As in, Severus Snape?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"Yeah, why? Do you know him?"  
"I know of him." Murtagh replied. "Your mother spoke at great lengths of him."  
"Really?" Harry asked, intrigued.  
"Yes. She and Snape had been very close friends since even before Hogwarts."  
It was Harry's turn to be surprised.  
"What? Mum... And Snape... Friends?"  
Murtagh nodded.  
"What...? How...? When...? Why...? Ha...?"  
Murtagh sighed.  
"When the two of them were children, they lived close to one another. They became good friends because they had discovered that the other had magic. During the majority of their Hogwarts years, they remained close despite them being in rival houses. Your Mother even defended Snape when a group of students were constantly harassing him."  
"You mean Dad and the other Marauders?"  
Murtagh nodded.  
"Then there was an incident in their fifth year. Apparently, after yet another bout of harassment, Snape, in his rage, called your Mother a foul name."  
"Did it start with an M, and was usually used against Muggle-borns?"  
"I believe so." Murtagh replied.  
"Yeah, I've heard that word before. One of the Slytherins, a right old git, called Hermione that name. Everyone went crazy. Ron even tried to jinx him. Though, Ron was using a broken wand at the time and he ended up vomiting slugs. Hermione and I didn't even know what the word meant until Ron explained it to us."  
"Well," Murtagh continued. "After this incident, Snape did apparently feel sorry, but your Mother was too angry to forgive him. She did regret it, eventually. But by then, it was too late."  
Harry whistled.  
"Do you think Snape still cares about Mum?"  
Murtagh shrugged.  
"I do not know. I've never met him."  
Harry shrugged.  
"It would explain a lot of his confusing actions."  
"Such as?" Murtagh prompted.  
"Well," Harry began. "Ever since I arrived at Hogwarts, he has hated me. Well, he's very unfair to anyone who isn't a Slytherin, but he's especially nasty to me. He's always belittling me in front of the class, and taking points off of me for the lightest mistake. But then again, he's also apparently tried to save me a few times. Like in my first quidditch game when my broom was being jinxed. At first we thought Snape was the one doing it. But then I found out it was Quirrel, you know, the one with Voldemort on the back of his head. While that was shocking, it was even more surprising when I found out that Snape had been muttering a counter-curse and trying to save me. And well, his past friendship with Mum would explain why his actions would be so confusing."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"I can see your point."  
The two sat in silence for a long time. Finally, Harry spoke.  
"Do you... Do you want to have a look through the Album?"  
"What?" Murtagh asked.  
"It's just... I thought that maybe you would like to look through some of the pictures of Mum... You don't have to, but your welcome to look if you want."  
"That would... That would be very kind of you..." Murtagh said, a small smile on his face.  
Harry shrugged.  
"Who knows? Maybe you'll feel better after looking through it."  
Murtagh took the album again and smiled.  
"Thank you."  
"Oh, and here." He said, handing Murtagh the potions book. "Screw Snape's work, give this to Eragon. Potions don't require a wand, and maybe he'll be able to find something useful in this."  
Murtagh smiled again.  
"Thank you."  
"Don't mention it... Father."  
Murtagh sucked in a breath. Then, he got up and left the room. Harry turned to the stack of books.  
On to transfiguration, I guess.  
He thought as he picked up his Transfiguration text book.  
  
Murtagh quickly went to his room and placed the album on his bed. He decided that he would give the potions book to Eragon before looking through it.  
It didn't take him long to reach his brother's room. Murtagh knocked on the door. After a few seconds, Eragon opened the door, his hair tussled.  
"Murtagh?" He said, yawning. "Do you even know what time it is?"  
"Sorry." Murtagh said, entering the room. "Harry just wanted me to give you this."  
He handed Eragon the potions book.  
"I told him that you were curious about his kind of magic. He knows that this isn't exactly magic, but he still thought that it might be useful, and it doesn't require a wand."  
Eragon leafed through the first few pages.  
"I suppose I could have a look through this." He muttered. "I shall have to thank him."  
"Do you think you could make a copy of it for yourself?" Murtagh requested. "Harry still needs it for his school work, and apparently the potions teacher isn't exactly the nicest person."  
Eragon nodded.  
"I shall see what I can do."  
"Thank you." Murtagh said again.  
Eragon looked at him.  
"So, how was Harry after the Riders reaction to him at Dinner?"  
Murtagh shrugged.  
"He seemed fine, but it's hard to tell. He seems to have much practice in concealing his emotions."  
Eragon scoffed.  
"Sounds familiar." He muttered.  
Murtagh decided to ignore him.  
"He did not seem to care what they thought of him. We talked for a while, and..."  
"And what?" Eragon asked.  
Murtagh sucked in a breath.  
"He called me Father."  
Eragon's face broke into a wide smile.  
"That is wonderful."  
Murtagh smiled.  
"I know. I could hardly believe it."  
Eragon yawned again.  
"Well, it is late, and we both best be off to bed."  
Murtagh nodded. He went to leave, but then stopped and turned back to Eragon.  
"Oh, and one more thing. Is it alright if you cover for me tomorrow with the Riders? It is just that Harry and I were discussing me teaching him how to use a sword, because he was showing curiosity for it earlier."  
"Of course." Eragon said, smiling. "That sounds like a wonderful idea."  
Murtagh smiled again.  
"Thank you."  
Murtagh left Eragon's room.  
  
When he returned to his room, Murtagh instantly went to the album. With shaking hands, he picked it up. He was afraid to open it and see her face again.  
On one hand, he longed to see Lily again. He had missed her smile, her light, her joy. Even if he would only be looking at a picture of her, it was better than nothing.  
On the other hand, he was afraid that if he did see her face again, even if it was only a picture, then he would not be able to control his emotions. He was afraid that, once he saw her, the feelings of sorrow, regret and guilt would return.  
In all, Murtagh did not know whether to open the book or not.  
[Murtagh.]  
Murtagh turned to see that Thorn had landed on the balcony. Murtagh walked over to him and sat down, leaning against his dragons side.  
[Should I do it Thorn?]  
He asked him.  
[Do you want to open it?]  
Thorn replied.  
[Of course I do. But I am afraid...]  
[Afraid of what?]  
[Afraid that if I see her again, even in a picture, then I will not be able to hold back my grief.]  
[Do not worry.]  
Thorn replied, wrapping his tail around Murtagh.  
[I will be here for you, always.]  
[Thank you.]  
He replied.  
[Harry will think no less of you for feeling grief.]  
Thorn said.  
Murtagh smiled as he thought of Harry. He was so much like his Mother. So forgiving, so kind. Murtagh was surprised at how kind he was, considering that he had never been shown that much kindness during his childhood.  
The biggest surprise, however, was when Harry had called him Father.  
Murtagh had longed for it, dreamed of it, for so long. He did not think that Harry would be so willing to refer to him as such. Murtagh knew that he had done barely anything to deserve such a title.  
But when that one word had left his son's lips, Murtagh could feel his heart clench and he had to hold back his tears.  
Murtagh turned his attention back to the book. With shaking hands, he flipped open the cover.  
She was just as beautiful as he remembered. Her eyes were just as green, her hair was just as red. Her smile was just as bright. Murtagh had to curse the wizards for making their pictures move, for it only made her seem more life-like.  
Murtagh had to hold back his tears when he saw a picture of Lily, sitting and smiling in a bright late summer day. In her arms, she held a small bundle. The bundle was Harry, when he was only a few weeks old.  
Murtagh looked at her smiling face, her bright eyes, her hair blowing in the breeze.  
"I'm sorry." He whispered to the picture.  
Murtagh sucked in a breath.  
"But I promise you, your sacrifice will not be in vain. I will do all I can to protect Harry. I will do, whatever it takes."  
[You should go to bed Murtagh.]  
Thorn said.  
Murtagh got up. He walked back into his room and placed the album on top of his desk. With one last glance at the moving picture on the cover, Murtagh climbed into his bed, his mind swirling with the day's events.  
Whatever it takes.  
He thought to himself.  
I will do, whatever it takes to keep him safe.


	6. Old stories and new friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Harry wanted was some breakfast. But it turns out, even miles away from Hogwarts, he can't even do that without atracting attention to himself.

Chapter 5:  
  
Harry began to awaken from his peaceful slumber. He was confused, as the bed he was lying in was softer and more comfortable than he had ever known a bed could be. He opened his eyes to find that whatever room he was in was dark, but with a slight amount of light. For a few seconds he couldn't remember where he was.  
Then he remembered.  
Yesterday, he had found Murtagh. He had found his father. He had found his father and he was wanted.  
He sat up and groped around the bed-side desk for his glasses. Once he found them, he put them on and blinked a few times to clear his vision. Once he could see properly, he noticed that the sun was just rising from outside his large window.  
He looked around the room, his room. It was just as big as his dormitory at Hogwarts, maybe even a little larger. And it was all his.  
Something caught Harry's attention out of the corner of his eye. A few somethings, actually, all stacked on his desk. Harry got out of his bed to inspect them.  
It appeared to be a pile of clothes, with a pair of boots placed carefully beside it. There was a note on top of the pile.  
  
Harry,  
I will see you after breakfast. I may be a few minutes, as Eragon has called for a meeting between the two of us and our dragons. I hope that you will be able to find your way to the dining hall by yourself. I also hope that the Riders do not bother you too much.  
These clothes are for you. We always make sure to keep a decent supply of clothes in many different sizes, and I believed you would like a change from those rags you were forced to wear.  
If you need anything, do not be afraid to ask.  
Murtagh.  
  
Harry put the note down and began to inspect the clothes. His new clothes consisted of four black tunics with four pairs of matching leggings. Harry was at first curious as to why Murtagh had chosen black, but then he remembered that the Riders seemed to decide the colour of their wardrobe according to the colour of their dragon. Well, he assumed that this was the case since he had seen Murtagh in red and Eragon in blue, the same colours as their respective dragons. Harry guessed that Murtagh was trying to give Harry a neutral colour, as he most likely believed that the wrong colour would upset him. Harry wouldn't have cared if Murtagh had given him pink. All that mattered was that he now had clothes that weren't either his school robes or Dudley's hand-me-downs.  
He tried all of the clothes on, including the boots. Everything fit perfectly. He finally got dressed in one of the tunics and leggings and looked at himself in the mirror attached to the door of the wardrobe. He had to say, he looked pretty good. Now that he was wearing clothes that both actually fit him and weren't falling apart at the seams, Harry thought that he looked a bit neater.  
Harry looked up to the top of the wardrobe, where Hedwig was perched, looking at him.  
"What do you think?" He asked her.  
Hedwig just hooted.  
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Not a very good colour scheme. But hey, it's better than Dudley's old hand-me-downs, right?"  
Hedwig hooted again, but this time Harry could have sworn there was a note of agreement in her tone.  
"Maybe I could ask Murtagh for some red." Harry continued. "Would you like that?"  
Hedwig hooted again. Harry smiled.  
He began to put the rest of his new clothes in the wardrobe. However, he frowned when he saw his old clothes. They were faded, warn and falling apart.  
"Hey, Hedwig? Do you think I should burn these old things?" Harry asked, pulling out a particularly disgusting brown shirt which Harry could have sworn was once white.  
Hedwig hooted something which Harry took to be an agreement. He chuckled and imagined burning away some of the last vestiges of his time with the Dursleys.  
"We'd have to be careful. Don't want anyone panicking, do we?"  
Harry chuckled again. Then, all thoughts of burning clothes were wiped from his mind by a sudden rumbling sound coming from his stomach.  
"Guess I better go have breakfast." He said. "See you later."  
Harry was about to open the door, when he had a sudden thought. He walked over to the desk, where he had put his wand for safe keeping. He grabbed said wand and put it in his right boot. Harry thought that he should be armed, just in case Murtagh's worst fears came true and the entire Rider order hated him.  
Harry did remember that he was technically not allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts. But he thought that his own safety was more important than a law that shouldn't even apply here, seeing as, not only was magic common knowledge, but the place was crawling with magical species. And he'd like to see them try to arrest him. Not only was he on an uncharted island in the middle of Merlin knows where, but he highly doubted Murtagh would let them do anything to him.  
So Harry felt perfectly comfortable taking his wand with him to breakfast.  
And with that, Harry left his room.  
  
Harry found that the home of the Riders was much, much easier to navigate than Hogwarts. For a start, none of the staircases moved. For another, nothing else did. Harry really didn't know what the founders were on when they had designed Hogwarts. Or maybe they were trying to make it difficult for future students to get anywhere on time, as a sort of prank. If so, then they had out done both the Weasley twins and the Marauders.  
In any case, Harry did not have that much trouble navigating his way to the dining hall.  
When he entered, he could see out of the window that the sun was just rising from beyond the horizon. Harry predicted that it was about 7:00 a.m. He blinked in surprise when he saw that many of the Riders were already awake.  
Harry was not used to the majority of people in one location waking up at the crack of dawn. Back at the Dursleys he was always expected to wake up even before the sun had first appeared to make them a full English breakfast. The Dursleys themselves wouldn't usually wake up until the sun had risen. And even then, it was hard to get Dudley out of bed, (usually because the reason for the early morning was school). On weekends and in the holidays, they would usually sleep in until around 10:00 a.m. at the very earliest, long after the sun and Harry had risen.  
At Hogwarts, the only people he knew to wake up so early were the teachers, the Ravenclaws, some sixth and seventh years, and Hermione. The vast majority of Hogwarts students wouldn't be awake until around an hour before classes. And on the weekends, the number of early risers was lower. Harry had known some to sleep in so late that they had missed breakfast.  
Hence why he was surprised to see the majority of the dragon Riders already awake and eating breakfast.  
As soon as Harry had entered the room, every single head turned towards him. Harry squared his shoulders and ignored the stares the best he could. He continued to tell himself that this was nothing compared to Hogwarts. He could deal with the stares.  
Harry walked over to the grand table in the centre of the hall and grabbed a plate. He could hear the riders beginning to mutter. Harry ignored them and put some food on his plate.  
He hardly recognised any of the food. He doubted he could get a full English breakfast here. Not that he minded. Due to the Dursleys practically starving him during his childhood, Harry's stomach had suffered as much stunted growth as the rest of him. This had resulted in him not having that much of an apatite.  
Finally, he found some pieces of fruit and filled his plate, bringing it with him to an empty table, far away from the stares of the Dragon Riders, but in a good position if he was suddenly attacked by any of them.  
Harry found the fruit to be quite wonderful. He liked fresh foods, such as fruit and vegetables, as they usually lacked grease.  
Due to the Dursleys rather unhealthy diet, Harry had developed an aversion to fattening, greasy foods. His body just seemed to reject any foods that were oily, deep-fried or heavily drenched in fats. He remembered during his first Hogwarts feast, he had marvelled at the wide variety of food that had been laid out for him, and there was no Dudley to take it away. Indeed, Harry believed that there was enough food to feed an army of Dudleys.  
Against his better judgement, Harry had stuffed himself with a bit of almost everything. By the end of the night, he had eaten more food than he would have gotten in a month at the Dursleys. At the time, Harry had felt bloated. He had wondered at how someone could eat so much. Yet no one had batted an eye at his food intake. However, it was evidently too much for Harry, as at around 2:00 in the morning he had woken up, only to have to run into the bathroom and vomit out the contents of his stomach.  
He had accidentally woken the other boys, who looked at him strangely when they saw him puking his guts up. They had asked him if he was sick. Harry was momentarily taken aback, as no one had ever shown him concern. But Harry had quickly recovered and replied by saying that he must have eaten too much at the feast.  
However, this only led to more concern when Ron had pointed out that Harry had eaten just as much as any of them, maybe even a little less.  
When the red-head had suggested they see one of the teachers about it, Harry had just shrugged it off and said that it was nothing to worry about, and that he had a pretty good immune system.  
From that point on, Harry only ate small portions of food. His friends always asked him why he never ate much, and suggested that he tell Madame Pomfrey about it. But Harry always refused. He really, really didn't want to draw attention to a problem that he could handle. He wouldn't call what he had an eating disorder, only a natural reaction to certain foods, as well as a certain amount of food.  
Harry remembered seeing a concerned look in Murtagh's eyes when he was helping Harry find food the previous night, and the Rider had noticed that he had decided on a small serve. Harry hoped he wouldn't push the issue. There was nothing wrong with not wanting to eat too much food. After all, Harry could go days, maybe even weeks, without eating a single bite. He was well acquainted with the pain of hunger.  
Harry was almost finished his breakfast, when he saw out of the corner of his eye that two of the Riders had gotten up from their table and were walking towards him with half-finished meals. He let his hand fall only a few millimetres away from his wand, ready for anything.  
He watched as the two approached. They both appeared around his age. However, this was hard to tell, considering that Riders were apparently immortal. One appeared to be a human female, with brown hair that fell to her shoulders, and light blue eyes that were looking directly at him. She was dressed in purple, so Harry guessed her dragon was likewise purple.  
The other was an elven male. His hair was so white, that it gave Harry shivers. He hoped that this guy wasn't like a certain light-haired Slytherin he new and despised. Thankfully, he was not dressed in green, but rather grey.  
Finally, they reached his table. He looked directly at them and they at him.  
"Greetings, Murtaghson." The elf said.  
"Good morning." Harry replied, looking at the two of them curiously. "Can I help you?"  
"We noticed that you were sitting by yourself." The girl replied. "Did you not wish to join us?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"After how all of you reacted to me last night, I figured it would be in everyone's best interest if I avoided sitting in close proximity to anyone besides my father and Eragon."  
The girl winced and the elf cleared his throat.  
"Yes, last night was quite a... Surprise. And I must admit, there are a few who were... Σ than pleased."  
He looked towards where the other Riders sat.  
"However, after much thought we at least have decided to give you the benefit of the doubt."  
Harry blinked.  
"Umm... Thanks."  
The girl smiled.  
"May we sit then?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"Go ahead."  
The two sat opposite him, placing their half finished breakfasts on the table in front of them. The three were silent, before Harry decided to break the tention.  
"So, what are your names?"  
"Oh," Said the girl. "How silly of me. My name is Brinla, and this," She pointed at the elf. "Is Hurzomna."  
Harry's lips twitched in a small smile.  
"Nice to meet you. Please, call me Harry."  
Brinla smiled widely and Hurzomna's lips twitched upward.  
"Likewise." The elf replied.  
Brinla looked at Harry's empty plate.  
"I noticed you didn't eat much." She commented.  
Harry shrugged.  
"I'm not a big eater."  
Brinla frowned but said nothing.  
"So," Harry said, trying to change the subject. "If you don't mind me asking, how old are you? It's just, I've heard that Dragon Riders are pretty much immortal and so it would be a bit hard to tell by appearance."  
Brinla smiled.  
"I have just turned sixteen."  
"And I am also sixteen, though I shall be seventeen in three months time." Continued Hurzomna.  
Harry blinked.  
"Really? Because my father told me that there weren't that many elven children."  
"That is... Complicated." Replied Hurzomna. "You see, after the fall of the original Dragon Riders, the elves' fertility suffered greatly, with only two young being born in that period of time during Galbatorix's reign. However, once the tyrant king was defeated and the balance of magic was restored with the return of the dragons, there was quite an... Increase in elven births... While it is nothing compared to human birthing rates, it was a massive increase for the elves."  
"So, what you are saying is, that you are part of an elven baby-boom?"  
Hurzomna furrowed his brows.  
"I suppose you could say that."  
"So, tell us Harry," Brinla began. "Why is it that non of us have ever heard of you?"  
"My father thought that it would be safer for me to not be raised near Alagaësia. At the time, it had only been a few years since the war and emotions were still fresh. He was afraid that I would be hated for both what he was forced to do and what Morzan had done."  
Harry noted that both Brinla and Hurzomna flinched at the name "Morzan", just as the people in the wizarding world flinched at the name "Voldemort".  
"That is... Understandable." Hurzomna finally said. "However, you need not be too concerned. Though I am ashamed to say there are a few who are hesitant to trust you based on your heritage, the vast majority of them are the dwarfs."  
"It's okay." Harry replied. "I'm used to it."  
He did not elaborate, and the two Riders did not push the issue further.  
Brinla cleared her throat.  
"May I ask, did you come here alone? I assume you came here alone, as you were the only new-comer last night."  
Harry shrugged.  
"I came with my owl Hedwig."  
Brinla blinked in shock and Hurzomna raised an eyebrow.  
"What do you mean by "your owl"? Do you mean as a pet?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"Kind of."  
"How strange." Brinla said in amazement. "Is this a custom where you come from?"  
"Yeah, well, in part of it." Harry replied.  
Hurzomna cleared his throat.  
"What of your mother? Surely she would not let you travel so far by yourself?"  
Harry looked down.  
"Well... She really couldn't do much to stop me. She died when I was a baby."  
"Oh, I am sorry." Brinla said, her eyes full of sympathy.  
Harry shrugged.  
"It's okay. It was a very long time ago."  
"May I ask how she died?" Brinla inquired hesitantly.  
Harry thought over his response for a long time. Finally, he decided to tell them the truth, but not to get into too much detail.  
"She and my adopted father were killed protecting me from a dark wizard."  
Brinla's eyes were wide with shock and Hurzomna's previously neutral expression melted into disgust.  
"Do you mean to tell me that a wizard was wicked enough to attempt to murder an infant?"  
"Yes." Harry replied. "To this day, everyone... Well, almost everyone, is afraid to say his name."  
Brinla frowned.  
"Are there many wizards where you come from?"  
"Yes, an entire society of witches and wizards, though it is concealed from the Mug... Errr, the non-magicals."  
"Oh really?" Hurzomna asked in curiosity, raising an eyebrow. "Tell us of this society. And perhaps even of this dark wizard?"  
And so Harry went into an explanation of the wizarding world, and the war against Voldemort which had ended with his parents’ deaths. As he told the story, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that a few of the other Riders were attempting to listen to his story, while making it seem as if they weren't.  
Brinla's brows were furrowed.  
"Why did Masters Murtagh and Thorn not assist in fighting against this Voldemort?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"My father told me that they were still recovering from what Galbatorix forced them to do, and they did not wish to involve themselves in any conflict."  
Hurzomna nodded slowly. But then he asked his question.  
"And how did you survive when countless had not?"  
Yet again, Harry shrugged.  
"Don't know. No one does."  
"And, if your mother was dead, who was the one to raise you?" Brinla asked.  
Harry's expression darkened.  
"My mother's sister and her husband. They are not... The nicest people."  
Harry did not get into detail, and the Riders did not ask him to.  
"Well," Brinla began after a long silence. "What do you have planned for today, Harry?"  
"My father has offered to teach me how to use a sword." Harry replied, a smile beginning to creep onto his face.  
"Really?" Hurzomna asked quizzically. "Do you have much experience with swordplay?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"I used a sword once to fight a basilisk."  
"Impossible." Hurzomna retorted. "A basilisk is a very dangerous creature. There is no possible way an inexperienced fighter could have faced it with nothing but a sword and lived to tell the tale."  
"Oh really?" Harry smirked. "Then how do you explain this?"  
He pushed aside part of his tunic to reveal his shoulder, on which he still had a jagged scar. Even though Fawkes had healed him of the venom, such a deadly wound left its mark.  
Brinla gasped and Hurzomna's eyes widened.  
"I got this from when it bit me." Harry stated simply.  
"Bit you?" Hurzomna breathed out in shock. "But a Basilisk's venom is poisonous."  
"Well," Harry said, pulling his tunic over the scar again. "That is a long story."  
"Tell us." Brinla insisted eagerly.  
Harry hesitated for a few seconds. He really didn't want to tell complete strangers his life story. Well... yes, he had told Murtagh. But that was different. He is Harry's father. And any way, Harry had lost control of his temper when he had told Murtagh. Now, he was in complete control of his anger, and his audience was not in any way related to him. But still, they had come to sit with him, and had been polite about it.  
In the end, he decided to tell them an abridged version of his second year.  
"Well, it began the summer before my second year. My relatives had guests over who were interested in a business deal with my Uncle's work. I was told to go to my room and pretend I wasn't there, as they did not want me to embarrass them..."  
Brinla frowned.  
"Do you have a problem with social gatherings?"  
"Nope." Harry replied, smiling bitterly. "My relatives just had a problem with me at social gatherings."  
He cleared his throat and continued.  
"Anyway, I was planning to just relax in my room and probably try to send another letter to my friends from school, even though they hadn't replied to any of my previous letters. But as soon as I stepped into my room, I was met with a startling surprise. For you see, there was a visitor, jumping on my bed. After I recovered from my shock, he introduced himself as Dobby, and told me he was something called a house-elf..."  
"I beg your pardon?" Hurzomna interrupted indignantly.  
"Oh, um... Sorry." Harry replied nervously. "I don't think your the same species. I mean, Dobby was shorter. And his eyes were larger, as were his ears."  
Hurzomna narrowed his eyes.  
"And what, exactly, are the roles of "House-elves", in your society?"  
Harry shifted uncomfortably.  
"Just so we're clear, I don't exactly agree with it. I don't know much, as I've only known about house-elves for two years now, and my mind has been on a lot of other things. But umm... From what I've heard... They umm... Serve old pure-blood wizarding families..."  
Harry could see Hurzomna's expression darkening, so he quickly went on with his story. He talked about how Dobby had been secretly steeling his letters and that he did this because he wanted to "protect" Harry from something that was going to happen at Hogwarts.  
As Harry continued his story, he saw out of the corner of his eye that more and more of the Riders were listening to his tale, some even moving closer to him. Harry decided to ignore his growing audience and continue.  
  
Murtagh was agitated. Admittedly, he shouldn't have spent practically half the night looking in Harry's photo album. But he just could not help himself.  
Regardless of his poor judgement of time, Eragon did not have to insist upon waking him before the sun had even risen, just so they could have an early morning meeting. Eragon should be thankful he hadn't picked up the dagger that he hid under his pillow and accidentally stabbed him in the confusion of waking.  
Eragon quickly left the room so that Murtagh could get dressed. Looking at his clothes, Murtagh thought about what Harry had to wear.  
Little more than rags.  
He thought.  
So, after he got dressed, he quickly ran down to the storerooms, where they kept spare clothes. He did not know what colour Harry would like. At first, he thought that maybe Harry would like red, as his son had mentioned being in Gryffindor, who's colours were also red. But then he opted not to give him that particular colour until he was more settled in and the other Riders had had a chance to get used to him. Red was also Murtagh's colour, and, regrettably, Morzan's. Murtagh feared that, if Harry did begin to wear red, then the Riders may begin to associate the colour with their family, and use this link to come to the conclusion that Harry was attempting to follow in his families legacy.  
A red legacy.  
He thought to himself.  
As red as blood.  
He shook his head. That would not be Harry's fate. His hands would not be drenched in blood that cannot be washed away and scars that can never heal. Well... At least any more scars that can never heal.  
In the end, Murtagh chose several outfits in black, as that seemed like a neutral colour. He hoped that Harry would tell him if he had any colour preference, and decided to ask him later.  
He quietly snuck into his son's room just as the first light of dawn was appearing from beyond the horizon. He crept to the bed-side desk and put the new clothing and boots in an empty space stacked neatly in a pile.  
He looked over at Harry, where the boy, no, young man, still slept. Murtagh smiled. Harry seemed younger, more innocent, less damaged, in his sleep. It both warmed and broke his heart. His child looked so fragile, so small, so pure, lying in his bed. Murtagh had dreamt of being able to tuck his son into bed for so long. He had longed to wrap his son in blankets of warmth and safety, wishing him goodnight and sweet dreams. Maybe even telling him a bedtime story. But because of his own foolishness and fear, he hadn't.  
And now that time had passed. Harry was much too old for such treatment.  
Despite this, Murtagh still reached out to brush some hair out of Harry's face. His son continued to sleep peacefully. Murtagh smiled and quietly left the room.  
Eragon was patiently waiting for him in the younger brother's office.  
"Thank you for joining us." Eragon said.  
"I am sorry I took so long." Murtagh replied. "I was finding some new clothes for Harry. I refuse to allow him to remain in such horrible excuses for garments."  
Eragon nodded.  
"We thought it had something to do with Harry."  
Murtagh sighed and sat down.  
"Let us just start this meeting."  
Instantly, the two Riders and their dragons joined in a four-way mental link.  
At the formation of the new Rider council, Eragon had suggested a way for all of them to communicate without anyone else being able to listen in. He said he wanted both Riders and dragons to be able to communicate with all involved in the council, and not just their respective dragon and rider. So he proposed that, during council meetings, they all lower their mental barriers just enough to create a link between all of them. Murtagh and Thorn had out right refused at first, as they had had enough invasions of the mental variety from Galbatorix. However, after almost a year of coercion, they finally agreed to Eragon's plans. After all, it was only going to be the four of them. And hopefully, when the council eventually grew, they would both trust the new members enough to allow this temporary link.  
Now, Murtagh and Thorn had gotten used to this occasional communication.  
[Finally.]  
Said Saphira.  
[The hatchlings and their young riders have begun to wake up, and soon they will be having breakfast.]  
[Do not worry Saphira.]  
Replied Eragon.  
[This will not take long. And any way, you are so fierce I highly doubt the younger dragons would hunt all the good game and leave you without some food.]  
Murtagh rolled his eyes. Sometimes, it was hard to tell where Eragon's mind ended and Saphira began. Murtagh and Thorn's relationship had improved significantly since the end of the war. However, they were still two separate entities, and liked it that way.  
The meeting was going smoothly. They mostly discussed the new riders and how they were progressing. Then they discussed reports of possible disturbances in Alagaësia, and whether they should send anyone and if so, who.  
Finally, they reached Harry.  
[In approximately a month and a half he will be returning to Hogwarts.]  
Murtagh said.  
[Are you alright with this?]  
Eragon asked.  
[That place does not seem safe for a hatchling.]  
Saphira continued.  
[And you do not seem to want him to go back there.]  
Thorn interjected.  
[It does not matter what I want.]  
Murtagh argued.  
[In the end, it is Harry's decision whether he goes back there or not. The most I can do is attempt to teach him some new skills before he has to return.]  
[Yes, today you begin to teach him how to use a sword.]  
Eragon remarked.  
[Will you be teaching him how to use the Ancient Language?]  
[I thought about it.]  
Murtagh replied.  
[Possibly, if he shows interest.]  
He could hear Saphira mentally huffing.  
[Is Harry just going to do all the decision making?]  
Murtagh scowled.  
[He has more than earned the right to. So much has been taken away from him at such a young age. For his entire life he has had people with authority over him taking away his freedom and disregarding his opinion. I am not going to do that.]  
[In any case,]  
Eragon interjected before Saphira could retort.  
[I wish to discuss another matter with you. Harry will be fourteen soon, will he not?]  
[Yes.]  
Murtagh replied suspiciously.  
[Well, he is the right age. Perhaps we should...]  
[Eragon, if you say what I think you are suggesting...]  
[Think about it Murtagh.]  
Eragon argued.  
[No.]  
[But think of the advantage he could get from this for whatever happens at....]  
[No.]  
[This could be a great opportunity for him...]  
[No! I refuse to have him tested by the eggs.]  
[Why?]  
Eragon asked incredulously.  
[You are concerned for his safety at Hogwarts. So why not give him an advantage by making him a Dragon Rider? He will be stronger, both physically and magically, and he will have a Dragon of his own to act as a constant companion. And anyway, this may help him in fitting in with the family.]  
[That is what I am afraid of.]  
Murtagh replied.  
[Say he does become a Dragon Rider. What if someone discovers his true name and forces him and his Dragon to do horrible things? Or, what if the other Riders believe that it is a sine that he will follow in his father and grandfather's footsteps?]  
[Is that what you're worried about?]  
Eragon asked incredulously.  
[You are afraid that something as little as Harry becoming a Rider will cause him to be associated with Morzan and what Galbatorix forced you to become?]  
Murtagh could hear Thorn mentally scoffing.  
[Earlier, he was concerned that Harry wearing the colour red would cause him to be associated with Morzan and what Galbatorix forced Murtagh to become.]  
Murtagh could just imagine Eragon rubbing his temples.  
[Really Murtagh? Really?]  
Eragon mentally sighed.  
[Alright, how about a compromise. We ask Harry if he would like to be tested on his fourteenth birthday. If he decides he wishes to be presented with the dragon eggs, then we shall allow it. If an egg doesn't hatch for him, then that will be fine.]  
[And what if one does?]  
Murtagh asked.  
[Then we will deal with that problem when it happens. Either way, it will be Harry's decision. After all, did you not just say that you wished for Harry to have freedom with his life?]  
Murtagh sighed.  
[Fine. But only if Harry agrees.]  
[Great.]  
Eragon said.  
[Now, I believe that is all for now.]  
The four-way connection broke, and Murtagh's focus went back to the outside world.  
"Come, breakfast should be almost over." Eragon said cheerfully.  
The two brothers got up and left the room.  
"I hope that Harry was able to find his way to the Dining hall." Eragon said. "Did you give him something to assist him? A map possibly."  
Murtagh shook his head, suddenly concerned.  
"Harry seems very perceptive. I hoped he would be able to remember his way from last night. And anyway, from what Lily told me, Hogwarts is much, much harder to navigate. Though, now I wish I had left a map, just to make sure."  
[Do not worry.]  
He heard Thorn say in his mind.  
[I have just passed the Dining hall, and I saw him through the window.]  
[Was he alright?]  
Murtagh asked.  
[He seemed perfectly comfortable, though he was surrounded by the Riders.]  
Murtagh stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide. Then, he suddenly began to walk at a much faster pace.  
"Murtagh, what is the matter?" Eragon asked, panting from the sudden increase in speed.  
"The Riders have Harry surrounded." Murtagh replied. "I have to make sure he is safe."  
Murtagh continued down the halls, Eragon hot on his heels.  
"How do you know he is surrounded by the Riders?"  
"Thorn told me."  
"And how do you know that he is in danger from them?" Eragon continued.  
"Why else would they be surrounding him?" Murtagh retorted.  
They rounded the bend into the corridor leading to the Dining Hall.  
"I truly think you are jumping to conclusions."  
"I am not..." Murtagh began, but was stopped when he saw the seen before him.  
The riders were indeed surrounding Harry. However, it was not for the reason he thought. He had feared that they were attacking his son. But no. They were listening to his son telling them a story. From what he could hear, it seemed as if Harry was telling the tale of his fight against Slytherin's monster and the memory of young Voldemort at the end of his second year. Eragon stopped right by his side and also began to listen to the tale.  
"... And so, once I had been healed of the poison by Fawkes's tears, I used my newly renewed strength to grab the cursed diary and the fang which had been previously stuck in my shoulder. I then stabbed the diary until ink began to pour out of it like blood. Riddle screamed with every stab, but I continued. Once the diary was destroyed, Ginny woke up and we returned to the entrance of the chamber. By then Ron had cleared a large enough gap for us to crawl through. It was then that I discovered that Lockhart had accidentally erased his own memory, as apposeopposed to mine and Ron's."  
Several of the Riders laughed at this.  
"And so Fawkes assisted us in escaping from the chamber. We immediately proceeded to Professor McGonagall's office, where we were surprised to discover, not only Ron and Ginny's parents, but Professor Dumbledore. The Weasleys went to the Hospital wing, and I presented Dumbledore with the diary and told him my story."  
"But how did Ginny come to posses the diary?“ Asked one Rider.  
Harry grinned.  
"Oh, just wait for it. For you see, just as I finished my story, Dumbledore had a visitor. It was Mr Malfoy. However, he was accompanied by, to my surprise, Dobby."  
There were many gasps.  
"It turns out, Malfoy had snuck the diary into Ginny's cauldron to try to discredit Mr Weasley."  
There were many exclamations of anger and disgust. Harry raised a hand to silence them.  
"Anyway, once Malfoy learnt of how his plans had failed, he left, dragging Dobby with him. However, I quickly grabbed the diary, with Dumbledore's blessing, and ran out to meet the older wizard. I tossed him the diary, and as I expected, he immediately threw it to Dobby. Once Malfoy had turned, I gestured for Dobby to open it. Once he did, he discovered that Malfoy had inadvertently given him the only thing that could set him free. Clothes. A single sock, of which was taken from my own foot."  
Harry smirked and gestured to his foot, as if to emphasize his point.  
"Malfoy was of course not happy. He made to attack me, but Dobby used his magic to blast him away. I then turned to my friend and asked him but one favour. To never try to save my life again, for then I feared that he would actually succeed in killing me."  
All of the Riders laughed at this. Harry joined them.  
"And so, Hagrid returned, all who had been petrified were revived, and all was well once again."  
Harry finished his story and sat back.  
The entire hall burst into applause.  
"That was incredible!" Said a Rider.  
"You are truly mighty!" Said another.  
Harry gazed down in embarrassment.  
"I was only doing the right thing. I mean, Ginny was my best friend's sister, and she was only an innocent girl. I couldn't let her die. And anyway, something had to be done because the school would have closed if I didn't. And it wasn't as if Lockhart was any good."  
"You single-handedly defeated a basilisk!" A rider exclaimed.  
"And before that you defeated a dark sorcerer when you were but an infant!"  
Eragon turned to Murtagh in shock, his eyes wide.  
"A basilisk?" He said.  
"Death has come for you many times, and you have defied it!"  
"You have fought it!"  
"You have defeated it!"  
"You are it's bane!"  
"Harry Deathsbane!"  
"Harry Deathsbane!"  
"Harry Deathsbane!"  
The chant continued. Murtagh was amazed. He had not even been here a day, and yet it seemed as if Harry had literally made a name for himself.  
He could not help the pride and hope that swelled in his chest. Perhaps everything would be fine. Perhaps Harry was not in danger of the Riders hating him, due to his heritage.  
He looked at his son, embarrassed and yet smiling at the praise.  
Perhaps, this was the beginning of something new, for both of them.


	7. Scars to your beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murtagh and Harry have many scars, physical and otherwise. But they won't let that show.

Chapter 6:  
  
Murtagh could not help but let a small grin slip onto his face when he saw that Eragon was still shocked from Harry's story. His eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly open. It was quite amusing.  
"Eragon." He said, trying to break his brother out of his shock. "Eragon, are you alright?"  
He tried snapping his fingers in front of the younger man's face. He didn't even blink.  
"A basilisk?" He finally said faintly. "He actually fought against a basilisk and survived?"  
"Yes." Murtagh replied.  
"How... When...?"  
"According to Harry, about a year ago."  
"But..." Eragon spluttered. "That would have meant... He fought against it when... When he was only..."  
"Twelve." Murtagh finished, a slight frown appearing on his face.  
"How?" Eragon asked again.  
Murtagh shrugged.  
"You will have to ask Harry himself."  
Murtagh then turned to the rest of the Rider's, who were still talking excitedly about Harry's story. He cleared his throat loudly to gain their attention. Instantly, the room fell silent.  
"Now," He began. "I believe you all have approximately half an hour until training begins. I would advise you make your way to the training yard and get prepared."  
Instantly, every Rider in the room got out of their seats and began to quickly walk to the doors.  
Murtagh smiled. While the vast majority of them no longer feared him as strongly, they still greatly respected both him and Thorn. This meant that they were usually quick to follow his orders.  
In only a minute, the Dining Hall was almost clear of Riders. Murtagh watched as two of the younger Riders, an elf male and a human female, said goodbye to Harry and followed their fellow Riders through the doors. Murtagh walked over to where Harry still sat, (After a small detour to the grand-food table). Eragon, still in shock, followed him.  
"Making friends I see." Murtagh said as he and Eragon sat down.  
Harry's gaze flickered down, as if belatedly embarrassed by the attention.  
"Well... They came to me, not the other way around. Not that I don't mind... Brinla and Hurzomna seemed pretty friendly..."  
"The Riders who were sitting with you in the middle of the crowd?"  
Harry nodded.  
"We were talking and they wanted to know if I had any experience with swords, as I told them that you were going to start teaching me how to fight with one, and I told them about the time I fought the basilisk, but they didn't believe me, so I showed them where I got bitten. And then, next thing I know they want to hear the story, and so I told them. I actually didn't realize how many people were listening in... Well, I could tell that some were trying while attempting to make it seem like they weren't... But I didn't realize the entire room was listening in until the end when they all started going crazy."  
"And," Murtagh said. "How did you feel, being in the middle of so much attention?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"Well, as I said, I'm used to it. But, it does feel kind of nice, being praised for something that I actually did, instead of just going into a new society and instantly being hero-worshipped for something I don't even remember. At least if any of them start to like me here, I will be able to feel that I actually earned it."  
Murtagh smiled.  
"That is good. Did you have enough to eat?"  
For a minute, Murtagh could have sworn he saw Harry frown in annoyance, however, he quickly replaced it with a smile that Murtagh was not entirely sure was genuine.  
"Yeah, I had enough." He replied.  
"Good." Said Murtagh, deciding not to push the issue. "We shall be in the smaller east training yard, so that we do not get in the way of Eragon and the other Riders in the large South yard and vice versa."  
"Is Eragon okay?" Harry asked.  
Murtagh looked to see that Eragon was still in shock.  
"Eragon, Eragon." He said, snapping his fingers in front of his brother's face.  
Eragon was not paying attention to Murtagh. His gaze was solely on Harry.  
"You fought a basilisk when you were twelve?" Eragon asked.  
Harry shrugged.  
"Yes."  
"Why? What were you thinking?"  
Again, Harry shrugged.  
"Students were getting petrified, including one of my closest friends, and the school was about to shut down, and my other friend's sister had been taken down into the chamber where the basilisk lived."  
"This was in your school?" Eragon asked incredulously. "Why would there even be such a dangerous creature in a school full of children?"  
"Because one of the founders thought that people who came from non-magical families did not deserve to learn magic, and so he hid a giant snake in his secret chamber so that he and his descendants could purge the school of those they deemed unworthy of magic. You see, this guy and all of his descendants could speak to snakes, which gave them some control over..."  
"And how long ago was your school founded?" Eragon interrupted.  
"About a thousand years ago." Harry replied.  
Eragon spluttered.  
"A thousand years! You mean to tell me that... That you fought a basilisk that was at least a thousand years old. Why, it must have been..."  
"Big?" Harry asked. "Yeah, it was huge."  
"Again I ask, what possessed you to think confronting this monster was a good idea? Please tell me that you at least had someone experienced to help you."  
Harry shrugged.  
"Not really. It was just my friend Ron and I. Well, we had Lockhart, that years Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. But he was a bit of a joke and everyone knew it by then. The most he did was cause a cave-in which led to me having to face down the basilisk alone."  
Eragon began to rub his temples.  
"Why, oh why, would you do such a reckless thing in the first place?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"I was only doing the right thing. Ron's sister was only eleven at the time, and she could have died if I didn't do something."  
"But you were only twelve!" Eragon exclaimed. "And you thought that fighting a basilisk by yourself was a wise decision?"  
"Hey," Harry began. "Didn't you once fight a shade and his band of Urgals, just because you saw a pretty girl in your sleep? How old were you again, sixteen?"  
Eragon's jaw dropped and Murtagh could hardly hold back his laughter.  
"He does have a point." Murtagh said.  
Eragon glared at him.  
"I was not alone. I had Saphira, and Murtagh. What did you have when fighting the Basilisk? And I do not mean your friend or the useless professor."  
"A magic talking hat, a very old sword, and a Phoenix." Harry replied. "I kind of pulled the sword from the hat."  
Eragon furiously rubbed his temples. Suddenly, he got out of his seat.  
"I am going to check on the Riders. I am beginning to believe that training Dragon Riders is less stressful than family."  
And with that, he left the Dining Hall. Murtagh turned to Harry to see that his son seemed concerned.  
"Is he okay?" Harry asked. "I didn't say something wrong, did I?"  
Murtagh attempted to shoot him a reassuring glance.  
"Do not worry. He is only shocked that you managed to survive such an encounter at such a young age. I believe he is also concerned about the situation you had been put through, as well as what else you might have had to face."  
"I... I'm sorry." Harry said, his eyes flickering down to the table.  
"Don't ;." Murtagh replied. "You are right in saying that you were only trying to do what was right, even if your methods were less than favourable."  
"I'm sorry." Harry repeated. "I'm just not... Not used to people being this concerned for me."  
Mmurtagh's heart clenched. He, at least, had a basic understanding of what Harry had had to go through year after year. He felt as if he should be the one apologizing. If he had only been less of a coward and more of a responsible parent, then Harry wouldn't have had to put himself in such dangerous situations.  
"Are you okay?" Harry asked, snapping Murtagh out of his thoughts.  
Murtagh shook his head. There was no use in thinking over it. What was done was done. Now, Murtagh had to focus on the present and make sure that Harry was not plunged into any more dangerous situations. Or at least ensure he was properly trained, so that he could rely on proper skills and not sheer courage and dumb luck to protect him.  
"I am fine." Murtagh replied finally. "Come, are you ready?"  
"Yeah, I guess." Harry said, smiling.  
Together, the two got out of their seats and left the Dining Hall.  
  
The East Training Yard was smaller than the other training yards. In all, the academy had approximately four main training yards, north, south, east and west. However, the Riders were free to train wherever they so wished, excluding only a few private locations reserved for the council's use only. One such location, was the East Training Yard.  
Upon Murtagh's first arrival to the academy, he all but claimed this yard as his own. This was due to him believing that the Riders may feel uncomfortable if they were to see him with a sword in such close proximity. Murtagh did not wish to distract them from their training, so he decided that it would be best if he trained in private, at least until they were more comfortable around him.  
Another reason for him wishing for privacy was because he did not like drawing attention to himself when he was training. Since he was a small boy, he had found that weapons training tended to have a calming effect on him. He did not know why, maybe because it helped him exert some of his energy.  
Either way, he essentially had an entire Training Yard to himself, which meant he would be able to teach Harry without any interruptions.  
Upon entering the yard, Murtagh noticed that Harry's eyes were wide with amazement. The young wizard was looking around the yard at the large collection of blunted weapons, heavily marked targets and practice dummies, and peaces of armour.  
Murtagh let Harry look curiously around before clearing his throat.  
"Before we begin, I believe it would be best to do some stretching exercises, just so we can loosen are muscles."  
Harry snapped out of his amazement.  
"Umm, yeah, sure."  
As Murtagh led Harry through some basic stretches, he could not help but marvel at his son's flexibility. His limbs and muscles seemed as fluid as water, and it seemed as if he was used to stretching.  
"Have you had previous experience with stretching exercises?" He asked.  
Harry's lips twitched into a slight smile.  
"Yeah, Oliver Wood, the old captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, always made us do stretches for about half an hour before all of our team practices. Combine that with the constant rants describing new tactics, which more resembled battle plans, and it was a miracle we ever got into the sky."  
Both of them chuckled.  
"You must show me your skills with your broom." Murtagh said.  
Harry grinned.  
"Maybe we could see who's faster, you with Thorn or me with my firebolt."  
[I think I would be faster than a broom.]  
Thorn replied jokingly.  
[And I do believe that Saphira may think that Harry's broom is no match for her.]  
Murtagh could not hold back his laugher. He could practically imagine Saphira's reaction to the mere thought that a broom could be faster than her.  
"Well, I believe that we should be ready to begin. That is, if you also feel ready."  
Harry smiled.  
"Yeah, I'm ready."  
Murtagh walked over to one of the weapon racks and grabbed a blunted Training sword for himself. He looked over at Harry and gestured for him to come over.  
"I think it would be best for you to find a sword that you are most comfortable with." He explained.  
Harry looked wide-eyed at the many training swords before him. For a few minutes he went around, feeling the grips and weight of the swords, to see which he preferred. Finally, he decided on a thinner sword that was designed for agile movements.  
Murtagh led Harry to the centre of the yard and began to help him with his stance.  
"Remember, keep your feet a shoulder's width apart. That way, it will be harder for you to become unbalanced. Keep a firm grip on your sword. Do not tense your muscles up so much. You need to stay loose."  
"Okay." Harry replied.  
Murtagh took a deep breath and walked to face him, a foot or two between them.  
"Are you ready?" He asked.  
"Yes." Harry replied.  
"Alright, then let's begin."  
With that, Murtagh swung at Harry. The teen quickly blocked him. Murtagh was impressed with his reflexes, and went for another swing, only to be blocked again.  
This continued on for a long time. Murtagh was attempting to hold back as much as he could. He had a tendency to get lost in the fight, whenever he was training. Whenever he spared with Eragon, his brother told him that it was as if he became focused on only one thing, and that was his own survival, even if the fight was only a training exercise. Murtagh did not wish to accidentally harm Harry with his overly-active survival instinct, hence why he focused on not fighting as he usually did.  
However, after a while of back and forth, Harry seemed to notice what he was doing and called him out for it.  
"Hey, your holding back." He said.  
"What?" Murtagh asked in shock.  
"I can tell that your holding back." Harry replied. "I can see it in your eyes."  
Murtagh was amazed. His son was truly observant.  
"I do not wish to hurt you." He explained.  
"Don't worry." Harry said. "No pain, no gain. Come on, do you want me to become better at fighting or not? I won't be able to achieve this if you keep holding back."  
Murtagh sucked in a deep breath.  
"Are you sure?"  
"Yeah." Harry replied. "Come on. Hit me with your best shot."  
Murtagh sighed. With some hesitation, he began to slowly increase the strength and speed of his attacks.  
At first, Harry seemed to be able to hold his own. But then, he began to seem to struggle. Murtagh tried as hard as he could to keep his instincts at bay. However, after Harry actually managed to get a hit in on his left leg, his arm seemingly took a mind of it's own.  
Swiftly, before either of them had time to think, Murtagh's sword hit Harry's side so hard, that he had completely lost his balance. Unfortunately, their duel had caused them to go closer to the practice dummies. Before either of them could stop it, Harry had fallen straight into one of the practice dummies. With a loud crash, Harry fell to the ground.  
"Harry!" Murtagh yelled, panicking.  
He quickly went down to examine his son for injuries. However, Harry merely brushed him off and stood up.  
"I'm fine." Harry said, rubbing his arm.  
Murtagh narrowed his eyes when he saw Harry wince. He too, got back to his feet.  
His mind was reeling. How could he have been so foolish. He had actually thought that he could teach his son how to use a sword without hurting him. He should have expected it. He knew that his instincts tended to take over his thought processes when he was fighting. He should have been more careful. Oh, why did he listen to Harry when he requested for him to not hold back? Why did he even agree to this? He had wanted to be able to do something that would help him bond with his son, but he wouldn't have agreed to this if he knew that Harry would get this hurt. But he should have known in the first place. All he did was hurt people.  
"Hey," Harry said, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Are we going to get back to fighting or not?"  
Murtagh looked at him. Harry was obviously in pain, but he was doing a very good job at hiding it.  
"First, I need to check you for injuries." He said.  
Harry frowned at him.  
"I told you, I'm fine."  
Murtagh shook his head.  
"You are obviously in pain."  
"I'll be fine." Harry retorted. "This is nothing. One time, I cracked my ribs and never had any medical treatment or anything. Really, I've dealt with worse."  
Murtagh clenched his fist at the reminder of how much his son had suffered. Then a sudden thought struck him. Had Harry ever had any proper treatment for his injuries? Murtagh highly doubted it. But if Harry had suffered from broken bones, and they hadn't healed properly, then this could cause great harm to him.  
"Harry," Murtagh said slowly, attempting to remain calm. "Please, at least let me heal you. I do not wish for you to be in pain."  
After a long time, Harry finally nodded in agreement.  
Murtagh quickly walked over to him and put a hand on his arm, where he saw Harry rubbing.  
Murtagh gently pocked the arm, then the shoulder. Harry winced, and Murtagh flinched. The arm was definitely broken.  
"Alright, I'm going to heal you now." Murtagh said.  
He closed his eyes and focused on channeling his magic into Harry's body.  
While he did heal Harry's arm, he also examined his son's entire body. The results, while not unexpected, were still shocking. This would take much, much longer than he expected to heal. He decided that he would have to tend to Harry's extensive injuries later.  
Finally, the arm was healed and Murtagh opened his eyes.  
"I think that is enough for today." Murtagh said.  
"What? No, I'm fine." Harry replied.  
"No, I think we should continue this tomorrow." Murtagh replied. "We have both been fighting for hours. Soon, it will be time for the midday meal."  
Harry looked up to see that the sun was indeed in the middle of the sky.  
"Oh, right." He said. "I guess time does fly when you're having fun."  
"You found this fun?" Murtagh asked, astonished.  
Harry nodded.  
"Yeah, it felt great." He replied, smiling.  
Murtagh smiled in return.  
"Well, I expect that you must be hungry after this long morning."  
Harry was about to reply, when his stomach did it for him. Harry chuckled.  
"Well, I guess that answers that question." He said.  
And so, after putting their training swords away, they walked back to the Dining Hall.  
  
Later that afternoon, Murtagh went in search for Harry. He found him sitting on his balcony, apparently working on some of his summer homework.  
"Harry?" He said from the doorway. "may I come in?"  
Harry looked up from where he was writing something.  
"Yeah, sure."  
Murtagh walked to where Harry was sitting on the balcony.  
"What are you doing?" He asked.  
"Transfiguration." Harry replied.  
"Do you have a moment?"  
Harry put his book down.  
"Okay. What's wrong?"  
"Nothing." Murtagh replied, though there was most definitely something wrong. "Can we talk?" He gestured to the bed.  
Harry shrugged and got up. Together, they walked to the bed and sat down, side by side.  
"So, what did you want to talk about?" Harry asked.  
Murtagh sucked in a deep breath.  
"I am concerned, about your medical history."  
Harry frowned.  
"I told you, I'm fine."  
"No, you are not." Murtagh retorted. "Have you ever been properly treated for injuries or illnesses?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"I did manage to wind up in the hospital wing at Hogwarts every year."  
"Besides that." Murtagh retorted. "Before you went to Hogwarts."  
Again, Harry shrugged.  
"The Dursleys never took me to a hospital whenever I got hurt. I guess they didn't want to waste money on me. And whenever I got sick they would just lock me in my cupboard until I got better."  
Both Murtagh's heart, and his fists clenched at these words. He sucked in a deep breath to calm himself.  
"So any broken bones were just left to heal on their own?"  
"Yeah." Harry replied. "But I don't see the problem..."  
"The problem is," Murtagh said. "Is that if your bones heal in the wrong way, then it could cause great damage to your body."  
Harry frowned.  
"And," Harry said slowly. "I still don't see the problem. I'm pretty sure that my bones healed the right way."  
"No, they haven't." Murtagh retorted. "When I was healing your arm, I did a quick check on the rest of your physical health. The results... Well, they were not unexpected considering what I know of your past. However, they were still alarming."  
"Why, what's wrong?" Harry asked, beginning to sound concerned.  
Murtagh took a few seconds to think about how exactly to fraise it.  
"Lets just say, the only bones in your body which did not seem to have even a slight fracture were the ones in your right arm."  
"Oh, you mean the one where Lockhart accidentally made every single bone disappear?" Harry asked, with a bitter smile on his face. "I guess he was good for something."  
"That is not the point." Murtagh replied. "The point is, your bones are suffering from a great amount of damage from which they have not been properly healed. The bones also did not seem as strong as they should be. Did you not have enough calcium in your diet?"  
"Well, to be quite frank, I didn't have much of anything in my diet." Harry replied.  
"And that's another thing." Murtagh continued. "I have noticed that you do not eat much."  
"I am fine." Harry said forcefully. "I have never been a big eater. It's because the Dursleys never gave me that much food as a kid. But I'm fine..."  
"Your not fine." Murtagh retorted. "You need food to help your body grow and become stronger."  
"I'm fine." Harry repeated. "I'm used to it. It's not an eating disorder or anything. I just can't eat heavily unhealthy food... Or well, a large amount of food."  
"And what would you consider to be a large amount of food?" Murtagh asked skeptically. "A normal serving of food."  
Harry glanced down nervously.  
"Can you really define a normal serve of food? I mean, my normal is different to your normal, which is probably different to Eragon's normal, which is..."  
"That is not the point." Murtagh interrupted. "The point is, we need to do something about your diet."  
"No, we don't!" Harry practically yelled. "I told you, I'm fine."  
For a long time, they were both silent. Finally, Harry sighed.  
"I'm... I'm sorry. I'm just not used to people being this concerned about me."  
"Do not worry." Murtagh replied. "I once felt the same."  
He then grabbed Harry's hand tightly.  
"But you no longer have to feel this way. You are not alone any more."  
"Thanks." Harry said, smiling. "I guess... I guess we're both dealing with our scars."  
"Both figuratively and literally." Murtagh agreed.  
Again, they sat there in silence for a long time. Finally, Harry began to look curious, but hesitant.  
"Hey, umm... Speaking of scars..."  
"Yes?" Murtagh prompted.  
"Can I... Can I see yours?"  
Murtagh blinked.  
"What do you mean?"  
"I mean... The one on your back... You know..."  
Murtagh's eyes widened.  
"You don't have to, if you don't want to." Harry quickly said. "It's just, I'm curious."  
Murtagh thought over the request for a long time. Despite it's reputation, very few people had actually seen his scar. It was something that he kept hidden, as it served as a constant reminder of who exactly was his Father. He was afraid of how Harry would react to it. Would he be frightened, or would he be disgusted.  
Finally, Murtagh decided that if Harry wanted to see it, then he should at least grant him this wish. After all, he had seen Harry's numerous scars already. And so he stood up and removed his tunic.  
He could hear Harry gasp before standing up. He could feel Harry tracing it with his fingers.  
"Wow, this... This is..."  
"Not a pretty sight." Murtagh finished.  
He put his tunic back on and sat down again.  
"That looked like it really hurt." Harry said, wide-eyed.  
"I think it did." Murtagh replied. "Thankfully, I can barely remember it."  
They were silent for a long time.  
"I'm sorry." Harry finally said. "I'm sorry that Morzan did that to you."  
"You do not have to be sorry." Murtagh replied gently. "This happened long before you were born."  
"But still," Harry retorted. "It's still kind of sad, to be so badly scarred by someone related to you..."  
"I suppose we have both been hurt but people we unfortunately shared blood with." Murtagh said.  
"But we don't have to let ourselves be marked by our scars." Harry said. "We can either hide from them, or grow from them. So what if we have scars. We might be damaged, but at least we're still here."  
Murtagh smiled.  
"Yes, we're still here."  
Harry then grabbed Murtagh's hand and squeezed it tightly.  
"Your scar doesn't make you any less of a person." He said in almost a whisper.  
Murtagh had to hold back his tears. Lily had said something very similar to him, when she had first seen his scar.

"You might have a scar, but that does not make you any less beautiful to me. I love you, regardless of what you have done."  
The words now echoed in his mind.  
"Thank you." He said in little more than a whisper.  
"Errr, thanks to you too." Harry replied.  
They sat in silence.  
"So, will we be training tomorrow?" Harry asked, a smile appearing on his face.  
"Of course." Murtagh replied, also beginning to smile.  
Murtagh went up to leave, but then he turned.  
"Harry?"  
"Yes?"  
"About your bones," He began. "The amount of damage is quite extensive. Would it be alright if Eragon and I attempted to heal them some time?"  
"Yeah, sure." Harry replied. "I mean, if you think it'll be a good idea."  
Murtagh smiled. He would have done it himself, only the damage was so great he felt that he may need some help, lest he accidentally do more harm than good.  
With that, Murtagh left the room.


	8. You'll always find your way back home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is beginning to feel that he has finally found his home.

Chapter 7:  
  
Later that evening, Murtagh walked down the halls of the Rider academy, heading towards his brother's bedroom.  
He hoped that Eragon would have enough energy to help him. He was aware that it was late. However, he did not wish to draw attention to the situation by having both he and Eragon absent for several hours. For Murtagh believed that it would take several hours, even with the two of them, to heal Harry of all his untreated injuries. Murtagh knew that Harry would not wish to draw attention to himself.  
Finally, he reached Eragon's door and knocked.  
"Murtagh," Eragon said upon opening the door. "What is wrong?"  
"I need your help." Murtagh said.  
"Help with what?"  
Murtagh sucked in a deep breath.  
"Today, when I was training with Harry, I... Accidentally got a bit carried away again, and well... He was accidentally hurt."  
Eragon's face became concerned.  
"I am sure you did not mean to." Eragon replied.  
Murtagh raised a hand.  
"That is not why I came. You see, I was able to heal Harry with my magic. However, this was after much protest, from which I have learnt some very startling information."  
He sucked in a breath.  
"Harry has never been treated properly for his injuries. The only cases of him receiving medical treatment are after he began Hogwarts. The result of this is that several of Harry's bones were not able to heal properly."  
Eragon frowned.  
"How bad is the damage?"  
Murtagh sighed.  
"Let us just say, it is a miracle that Harry is still standing."  
Eragon squeezed Murtagh's shoulder.  
"How can I help?"  
Murtagh smiled.  
"I need you to help me heal him. I would do it myself, only the damage is so extensive, that I am afraid that if I attempted it on my own then I would only do more harm than good."  
Eragon sighed.  
"And let me guess, you became so concerned that you decided to come here as soon as you could?"  
Murtagh shook his head.  
"I wished to do it at night so we did not draw attention to the situation. I highly doubt Harry would wish for the entire order to know of his many unhealed injuries, as it may indicate to them that he had suffered from abuse as a child."  
"Alright." Eragon said. "Let us do it then."  
  
Harry was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, his broom on his lap and his broom-care kit open in front of him. He was in the middle of polishing it from the handle to the bristles. The long journey had truly done it no favours, and he had been meaning to tend to it.  
He found tending to his broom to be a relaxing process. It calmed him and gave him time to think.  
Were his bones really that bad?  
He thought.  
The question had been swirling in his head for some time.  
He did know that he had had several broken bones over the years. But all of them?  
He had once heard that there were 206 bones in the human body. So was it possible that he had managed to damage all of them?  
He had always assumed that they had healed on their own. He did not think he had suffered any long lasting effects from his injuries. Well, yes, during extremely cold weather his body tended to ache, and he had heard somewhere that old injuries did tend to feel sore in such weather. But he had learnt to ignore the pain, thanks to the Dursleys, and thought nothing of it. Thanks to his upbringing, he had developed quite a pain-threshold.  
But still, was he that badly injured?  
Harry did not know, but he decided to allow Murtagh to heal him, if only to put the man's mind at ease.  
He was broken out of his thoughts by a chiming sound.  
He turned to his desk to see that his mirror was flashing. He gently put the broom into its stand and walked over to the desk. He picked up the mirror and sat on his bed.  
As soon as he had touched it, the flashing stopped and the image in the mirror changed to reveal Sirius.  
"Hey," Harry said. "Is everything okay?"  
"Yeah." Sirius replied. "Just checking on you."  
"It's only been a day since I last talked to you." Harry replied.  
"Actually," Sirius retorted. "It's been twenty-seven hours, thirty-two minutes."  
Harry's eyes widened.  
"You've been keeping track of time?"  
"We've only been worried about you." Remus replied, appearing in the mirror. "After all, you are in an unfamiliar area, on an uncharted island, in the middle of Merlin knows where."  
Harry rolled his eyes.  
"Don't worry, I'm fine. My Father won't let anything happen to me."  
Sirius snorted.  
"Father?" He asked, chuckling.  
"Well, I had to think of some way to differentiate between him and my other Dad." Harry argued defensively. "Though, saying Father so much is beginning to make me feel like Malfoy. I wonder how long it will take for me to start saying "When my Father hears about this..."".  
All three laughed at this.  
"So how was your day?" Remus finally asked.  
"It was good." Harry replied. "I think I've made some new friends."  
"Really?" Sirius asked, excited.  
"Yeah," Harry replied. "And I'm pretty sure I've just gotten a new nickname."  
"What happened?" Remus asked.  
So Harry began his tale about how Brinla and Hurzomna had joined him at breakfast, and how he was somehow convinced to tell them the story of how he fought the basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets, which had drawn the attention of the rest of the Riders. By the end of it, both men's eyes were wide with shock.  
"A basilisk?" Sirius asked in a squeaking voice. "You actually fought a basilisk?"  
"Yes." Harry replied. "Honestly, it's no big deal. I was only doing what was right."  
"No big deal?" Remus muttered. "I had heard some of the teachers talking about it last year. But I only thought it was the legendary Hogwarts rumour-mill."  
"It's true." Harry replied. "The rumour-mill may have altered a few of the finer details, but it really did happen, and I have the scar to prove it."  
Remus rubbed his temples and Sirius face-palmed.  
"He gets it from you, Sirius." Remus said. "Only you could do something so reckless."  
"Nah, he gets it from you Moony." Sirius retorted. "Only you could do something so dangerous because you thought it was the right thing."  
"Actually, that sounds more like Lily." Remus replied.  
"Yeah," Sirius agreed. "But where does he get his reckless behaviour from?"  
"Eragon, probably." Harry replied. "From what I've heard, he has a tendency to be reckless from time to time. One time, he apparently went up against a powerful shade, with no one but a young dragon and my Father for back-up. And this was before he had had actual training, and my Father wasn't even a Rider. And he did all this because he was seeing a pretty elf woman in his dreams."  
Both men groaned.  
"So we can blame him for your saving people thing." Sirius muttered.  
"I do not have a saving people thing." Harry argued.  
"Yes, you do." Sirius retorted. "If even half the rumours I've heard are true, then those a hundred dementors you fought off was just a typical Tuesday for you."  
Harry shrugged.  
"So, what's been happening on your end?"  
Sirius chuckled.  
"Dumbledore has finally realized that you are not at the Dursleys."  
Harry chuckled.  
"It only took him about a week."  
"Yeah," Sirius replied. "Rumour has it, Petunia screamed at him that you weren't there, and then slammed the door in his face." He muttered conspiratorially.  
Harry chuckled.  
"I would have loved to see that."  
"Yeah, well," Sirius continued. "He asked us if we knew where you were. But we couldn't tell him because of course, you are in the middle of Merlin knows where."  
Harry chuckled.  
"I don't even know where I am in relation to England."  
"Yeah, and he got really angry at me." Sirius continued. "He told me that you could be in grave danger."  
"And what did you tell him?" Harry asked.  
"I told him that, from what I've heard, you're in danger every year, and that you could probably handle anything that came to you."  
"I highly doubt he took that well." Harry replied, chuckling.  
"No he did not." Sirius replied. "He threatened to turn me in to the ministry if I didn't tell him where you were."  
Harry instantly sobered.  
"Really?" He asked concerned. "Sirius, you've got a kiss on sight order on you."  
"Don't worry about me." Sirius replied, grinning. "Remus, Buckbeak and I are on a road trip. He'll never catch us."  
Harry was still concerned.  
"Still, can you please be careful? I would hate for something to happen to you."  
"Hey, we're the one's supposed to be worried about you, not the other way around." Sirius retorted jokingly. "All you have to do is have fun with your family."  
"But you are my family." Harry replied. "You are two of the only adults who have ever shown me that you care about me, Harry, and not the "Boy Who Lived"".  
"Aww, thanks." Sirius replied.  
"But honestly, Harry," Remus continued. "We will be fine."  
"I'm holding you to that." Harry said, his smile not reaching his eyes.  
"Well, it's getting late." Remus said.  
"Yeah, I've had a busy day and I'm tired." Harry replied, yawning. "Good night."  
"‘Night." Both men replied before ending the connection.  
He put the mirror back on the desk. He had just grabbed his broom and sat down with his broom-care kit when he heard a knocking at the door. Harry sighed and put his broom down again.  
He opened the door to reveal Murtagh and Eragon.  
"Hey," He said. "Is everything okay?"  
"Would it be alright if we tended to your injuries now?" Murtagh said.  
Harry blinked.  
"Sure. I just didn't think you would want to do it so soon and so late at night."  
The two Riders followed Harry into the room.  
"I thought that it would be best to do it when everyone else was asleep, as I doubted you would want to draw attention to yourself." Murtagh replied.  
"Oh, thanks."  
Harry walked over to his broom-care kit, deciding that he should put it away, as it seemed like he wouldn't be getting anything else done tonight. He noticed that Eragon was staring at his broom interestedly.  
"Like it?" Harry asked, picking it up. "This, is a firebolt. It's the fastest broom to date."  
"It looks incredible." Eragon replied.  
Harry grinned.  
"You should feel it in the air. It's incredible."  
Eragon smiled.  
"Saphira may take insult to that."  
Eragon then chuckled.  
"I stand corrected. "She most definitely takes insult to that."  
"Oh, I didn't mean for it to insult her." Harry replied.  
There was a sudden flapping. All three turned to see a blue dragon whom Harry assumed to be Saphira, land on the balcony.  
"She wishes to speak to you." Eragon said.  
"Okay." Harry replied nervously.  
He walked closer to the dragon so that he was looking into her eyes. He suddenly felt a mind touch his own.  
[Hello?]  
He said hesitantly.  
[Hello, little wizard.]  
Saphira replied.  
[It's nice to meet you Saphira.]  
Harry replied.  
[Your scales look nice.]  
[Thank you, I just washed them in the ocean today.]  
Saphira replied, obviously proud of her scales.  
[I did not mean to insult you.]  
Harry continued.  
[I meant no offence. I am sure you are an excellent flyer.]  
[I should hope so.]  
Saphira replied.  
[I would think that I am most definitely better at flying than a cleaning appliance.]  
[I don't know.]  
Harry replied.  
[My broom is pretty good.]  
[It is still no match for me.]  
Saphira replied.  
[I don't know.]  
Harry said.  
[It might suffer from less wind resistance, it is smaller.]  
Saphira huffed.  
[Shall I take that as a challenge?]  
[Errr, sure, if you want.]  
Harry replied hesitantly.  
[Then let us test your broom against myself, and see who the victor is.]  
[Tomorrow.]  
Eragon interjected.  
[Saphira, we need to heal Harry first, or I'm afraid Murtagh might panic.]  
[Fine then.]  
Saphira replied.  
[I'll see you then?]  
Harry said.  
[Tomorrow.]  
Saphira replied.  
[Good luck, and may the best flyer win.]  
Harry replied before ending the connection.  
"What happened?" Murtagh asked, obviously not being privy to the conversation.  
Eragon sighed and rubbed his temples.  
"Harry thought it would be a good idea to challenge Saphira to a flying contest."  
"What?" Murtagh asked in shock, looking at Harry. "Are you mad?"  
"Well," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "It's only a bit of fun."  
Murtagh sighed in exasperation.  
"Let us just begin with the healing." He muttered.  
They walked towards the bed. Harry laid down in the middle of it and both men sat on either side of him.  
"This may take a while, and we are not sure if it will hurt." Murtagh began. "So it is best if you go to sleep. Will it be alright if I assist you with magic?"  
"Errr, yeah, sure." Harry replied.  
Murtagh put a hand on his forehead and muttered something.  
Instantly, Harry felt drowsy. Before he had time to think, he felt himself falling into a deep slumber.  
  
Murtagh looked down at the sleeping form of his son.  
"Shall we begin?" Eragon asked.  
"Yes, let us get this over with." Murtagh replied.  
The two put a hand on the shoulder of the sleeping wizard that was closest to them. They then joined their remaining hands. They drew upon their magic and joined their minds for maximum coordination. Blue magic mixed with red as they examined Harry's body.  
[Well,]  
Eragon began.  
[When you said that the damage was extensive, I did not think...]  
[I know.]  
Murtagh replied.  
[I believe that his right arm is only in such good health because that idiot of a Professor had completely vanished all of the bones.]  
They began with the bones, repairing the structure and putting them in the right positions. With several of them, they had to re-break the bone just so it could be put in the right shape. After a while, they focused on his organs. Both were astounded at the extent of his internal scaring. It was a miracle they were still functioning as well as they were.  
Harry's stomach was the size that you would expect from someone half his age, but there was little they could do about that at the moment. The most they could do was improve Harry's diet, so that his stomach could hopefully increase on it's own.  
Several of his vital organs were bruised, and his lungs were scarred in several places. It was a miracle he had not died from internal bleeding.  
Finally, they reached his brain. Murtagh had to resist the urge to be sick.  
There was something, leaching off of his son's life force. It was dark, corrupt, evil, disgusting. It made Murtagh's skin crawl. He hadn't felt such darkness since Galbatorix.  
[There is little we can do about this.]  
Eragon said.  
[What can we do?]  
Murtagh asked.  
[I want that thing off of my son.]  
[Maybe we could ask the Eldunari?]  
[Perhaps.]  
Murtagh replied hesitantly.  
While the majority of the Eldunari had forgiven him, as they understood that he had been forced by Galbatorix to use them to increase his strength, there was still the trauma which came from being enslaved. Murtagh knew this all too well.  
Finally, they drew what remained of their energy away from Harry and ended their connection.  
Eragon yawned.  
"I do not know about you, but I am tired after that."  
Murtagh looked out of the window and estimated it was around 3:00 a.m.  
"We should get some sleep." Murtagh said.  
Eragon lent against the headboard.  
"I do not know if I can move. That took so much energy."  
Murtagh also lent against the headboard.  
"Yes. But at least it is done."  
Both brothers just sat there, too exhausted to move. Before either knew it, they had both fallen asleep.  
  
Harry woke up, still drowsy. Blinking, he went to grab for his glasses, only to hit a firm body.  
"Huh, oh, here, let me."  
Said a voice that Harry recognised to be Murtagh's.  
The man handed him his glasses. Harry put them on and blinked a few times.  
He looked around to see that on his right, Murtagh sat, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. On his left was Eragon, still asleep. At least Harry thought he was asleep. It was just hard to tell, as his eyes were open, but unfocused.  
"Errr, is he sleeping?" Harry asked.  
"Yes." Murtagh replied, getting out of the bed.  
"It's just... His eyes are open. I don't mind, it's just a little creepy."  
Murtagh chuckled.  
"Eragon, wake up." He said.  
Eragon instantly jerked awake.  
"Huh... Oh, good morning." He said, yawning.  
Harry chuckled.  
"So, did you get everything done?" He asked, getting out of the bed.  
"Most of it." Murtagh replied. "We will need to increase your stomach to a proper size for your age the non-magical way. There was another thing, however, it requires more research."  
"Okay," Harry replied. "Thanks for... You know..."  
"Do not worry." Eragon replied. "That is what we are here for."  
Harry smiled.  
"Shall we go to breakfast?"  
"Wait," Eragon said, shooting Murtagh a look. "Have you asked him?"  
"No, not yet." Murtagh replied. "I was a bit distracted."  
"Well, are you going to?"  
"Ask me what?" Harry asked.  
The two men turned to him. Eragon cleared his throat. Murtagh sighed.  
"Harry, Eragon and I have been... Discussing something. You see, soon you will be turning fourteen, and that is the usual age when one begins to be tested, to see if they could potentially become a Rider. We were wondering, if you wished to be tested. You don't have to, if that is not what you want. We just thought that you should at least be given the opportunity."  
Harry's mind was spinning. Him, a Dragon Rider? It seemed unimaginable.  
Would he even be deemed worthy by one of the eggs? Was he even good enough to be a Rider? And if an egg didn't hatch for him, how would it affect his mending relationship with Murtagh? Would he be disappointed in him? Upset? Angry?  
And what if he didn't choose to be tested in the first place? Would he still be accepted here? He was beginning to think that he could make a real home here. But would that change if he did not become a Rider?  
"How long do I have to decide?" He finally asked.  
"We were thinking of testing you on your birthday." Murtagh replied. "But it will be alright if you do not wish to be tested. I will understand if you don't."  
"Okay." Harry replied, still unsure. "Can... Can I just have some time to think?"  
"Take as much time as you want." Murtagh replied.  
"Thanks. Can we go to breakfast now?"  
  
As soon as the three entered the Dining Hall, all eyes were on them. It appeared that their attempt at not drawing attention to themselves had failed.  
They ignored the mutterings as they approached the grand food table. Murtagh filled Harry's plate for him, much to his annoyance. Thankfully, he did not put too much food on it. He only put a little more than Harry usually ate.  
"Can you please eat all of this?" Murtagh requested, handing the plate to Harry. "We will slowly increase your diet until your stomach grows to its appropriate size."  
"Okay." Harry replied.  
The three parted, Murtagh and Eragon to the council table and Harry to one of the many empty tables.  
As soon as he was seated with his plate in front of him, he was joined by Brinla and Hurzomna.  
"Good morning Harry." Brinla said, smiling.  
"Good morning." Harry replied.  
"May we ask why you arrived here with masters Murtagh and Eragon?" Hurzomna asked.  
"Last night they were helping me with... something." Harry replied. "They were so exhausted afterwards that they accidentally fell asleep in my bedroom."  
"Oh." Brinla replied.  
Thankfully, neither of Harry's new friends pushed the issue.  
"So," Brinla began. "What do you have planned for today?"  
Harry smiled sheepishly.  
"I accidentally challenged Saphira to a flying contest."  
"Oh really?" Hurzomna asked, raising an eyebrow. "You will be hard pressed to beat her. She is one of the best flyers in the order."  
"Yes, well," Harry replied. "You've never seen my firebolt in action."  
"Still, this seems as if it will be interesting." Brinla said.  
"Well, you're welcome to watch if you want." Harry replied.  
"Yes, I think I shall." She replied.  
"As will I." Hurzomna said.  
  
A few hours after breakfast, Harry stood with his firebolt in his hand at the beginning of a make-shift race course that Eragon and Murtagh had constructed. They had both assured him that neither would show bias.  
Saphira was about a dozen metres away from him, flexing her wings.  
Harry looked around to see that they had gathered quite a crowd. It appeared that the entire order had heard of the challenge and had wanted to see who would come out victorious.  
"Now," Eragon said, standing between both him and Saphira. "I want to remind both participants," He continued, glancing specifically at Saphira. "This is to be a clean race. No purposely harming your opponent. You will both go on the count of three. One..."  
Harry mounted his broom.  
"Two..."  
He watched the course in front of him, analyzing what he could see.  
"Three!"  
Harry kicked off the ground, quickly going into the air. He could feel the wind being beaten by Saphira's wings. He gripped his broom, not too tightly and not too loosely, but just enough to give him a firm hold of the broom while still giving it flexibility.  
He could feel the same feeling that came to him whenever he flew. He was alive, he was one with the sky, a creature of the heavens. He was free.  
He could feel the wind whipping his hair. He focused on the wind currents, using them to help his trajectory.  
He had to admit, Saphira was an excellent flyer. She expertly wove through every obstacle. Hurzomna was right, he was hard pressed to beat her.  
Harry did manage to pass her a few times, but she quickly caught up to him. Eventually, Saphira was the victor. However, it was very close.  
Once they had crossed the finish line, having done a full circuit, he was instantly swarmed by people congratulating him. Apparently, despite him not winning, they were still impressed at how well he flew.  
Finally, the crowd dispersed and Harry was face to face with Saphira. He could feel her mind touch his.  
[Well, I guess the better flyer has come out victorious.]  
He said.  
[Yes, I did warn you. I can fly better than a cleaning appliance.]  
Saphira replied.  
[However, I was impressed by how well you flew.]  
[Errr, thanks.]  
Harry replied.  
[No, thank you.] Saphira replied.  
[It has been a while since I have had such a challenge.]  
And with that, she ended their mental connection.  
Harry was soon approached by a surprisingly grinning Murtagh. Harry thought that this was quite possibly the most expressive he had ever seen him.  
"That was incredible." Murtagh said.  
"Thanks." Harry replied.  
"You flew on that thing as if it were a part of you." The man continued. "It was very impressive."  
Harry smiled.  
"It was nothing, really. I love flying."  
"I do as well." Murtagh replied. "It is just so freeing..."  
"And it makes you feel so alive..." Harry continued.  
"And as if all your troubles have just gone away." They both said together, smiling.  
A long, awkward pause followed. Finally, Harry cleared his throat.  
"So... Umm... I was just thinking..."  
"Yes?"  
"Would it be okay, I mean, if you took me for a flight on Thorn? It's just that, I'm really curious to see what it feels like to fly on a dragon. I mean, you don't have to, if you don't want to. It's just..."  
"I see no problem." Murtagh replied. "Thorn has just informed me that he is fine with it as well."  
"Great." Harry said, smiling. "Just wait a second."  
He quickly ran over to Eragon.  
"Hey, umm... Do you mind looking after this? It's just that... Father is going to take me on a ride with Thorn."  
Eragon smiled.  
"Yes, of course. Don't be too long."  
Harry smiled.  
"Thanks."  
And with that, he ran back to Murtagh.  
His father helped him climb into the saddle on Thorn's back and assisted in fastening the straps on his legs. He then climbed on behind him.  
"Are you ready?" He asked.  
"Yes." Harry replied, both excited and nervous.  
There was a sudden lurch as Thorn took off, but the dragon was soon flying steadily.  
Harry could feel Murtagh clutching onto him extremely tightly, as if he were worried that he would fall off.  
"Hey, umm... Do you mind loosening a bit?" Harry requested. "It's just that you're kind of choking me."  
After a few seconds, Murtagh loosened his grip.  
"Sorry." He said sheepishly.  
"It's okay." Harry replied.  
He could not believe what he was feeling. Flying on Thorn was so similar, and yet so different, to flying on his firebolt. Having someone who was living and breathing under him, it was just so invigorating. He truly felt as if he were one with the sky. He could only imagine how it must feel if you had a mental connection with the being you were flying on.  
Harry's mind yet again went to the question he had been pondering all day. Should he agree to be tested or not?  
At first, he had been afraid that making the wrong decision would upset Murtagh and damage the relationship that was only beginning to grow. But he was also concerned that the eggs may not find him worthy.  
However, now, he felt that it would be worth the risk. He imagined having his own dragon, someone who he could confide in for anything and everything. Someone who would always be by his side no matter what. Someone who could truly understand him. Someone, who could make it so he was never alone again.  
As Thorn was gently flying around the island, Harry turned to Murtagh.  
"This is amazing.!" He said.  
Murtagh smiled.  
"I know."  
"Hey, umm... I've been thinking." He began. "You know what we talked about earlier, about me possibly being tested?"  
He could sense Murtagh tensing.  
"Have you thought more about it?"  
"Yes, well," Harry continued. "I've been thinking. I would at least like to give it a shot. I mean, what's the harm in that."  
"Are you sure?" Murtagh asked. "It is a great commitment."  
"That's okay." Harry replied. "I'm willing to accept that. I just... Want to know what it feels like. And who knows? Maybe, if I do become a Dragon Rider, I could put my power to good use."  
Murtagh was quiet for a long time. Harry could not quite read his expression. Finally, he spoke.  
"If that is what you want." He said.  
"Thanks." Harry said, smiling.  
"If it is alright, we can test you on your birthday."  
"That would be great." Harry replied.  
They continued their flight. Harry was not sure whether to feel excited or nervous at the prospect of being tested.  
  
Later that afternoon, Murtagh was walking down the halls to his bedroom. His mind was still reeling from the conversation he and Harry had had earlier.  
His son wished to become a Dragon Rider. Harry had agreed to be tested by the eggs.  
He was not sure how to feel. Excited at the prospect of Harry possibly becoming a Rider? Proud that he would make such an important decision? Scared that, if Harry did become a Rider, then someone may find a way to manipulate him just as he himself had been manipulated?  
It was all just too confusing.  
Murtagh would have been happy either way. He wouldn't have been upset if Harry had out-right refused to even be tested. He loved Harry, regardless of what he chooses to do with his life. It was, after all, his life. Harry should feel free to do with it as he wished.  
Harry was now in the large fields with the younger Riders. After seeing how well Harry did against Saphira with nothing but a broom, despite the fact that he had lost, they had all been amazed by his skill. They were now requesting that he show them some of his moves on his broom, and they were all having make-shift races and obstacle courses. Both he and Eragon had decided to let them, as they believed that this would both be a good training exercise, as well as a good team building exercise. Harry seemed happy enough, so Murtagh had left him so that he could enjoy himself while the older man could process his thoughts.  
Eragon had seemed excited when both Murtagh and Harry had told him that the latter wished to be tested.  
"See, I told you so." He had muttered to Murtagh so that only he could hear it.  
He shook his head and smiled. Eragon may be annoying at times, but Murtagh did not think he could find a better brother.  
He was broken out of his thoughts as he was passing Harry's door. He could have sworn he heard a chiming sound.  
He entered the room to see that the mirror that Harry had told him was a communication device, was flashing from it's place on the desk. He picked it up and sat on the bed.  
"Hello?" He said.  
Instantly, the mirror cleared to reveal a face that Murtagh had only seen once or twice before.  
"Oh, bloody hell, it's you." Said Sirius Black, obviously recognizing him after all this time.  
"Sirius Black, it's been a while." He said.  
Sirius was soon joined by a man whom Murtagh did not know. Judging by the tired expression and warn out features, he asumed this to be Remus Lupin.  
"Sirius, who is this?" The werewolf asked.  
"I am Murtagh." He replied. "And I presume you are Remus Lupin?"  
"Yes, it is nice to meet you." Remus said politely. "And I must admit, now I'm looking at you, it's easy to see the resemblance between you and Harry."  
"Speaking of which," Sirius interjected. "Where is he?"  
Murtagh looked out of the window to see Harry flying around with some other Riders.  
"Off flying on his broom with the younger Riders." He replied. "He seems to be having a lot of fun."  
"Good." Sirius replied. "That kid needs all the fun he can get."  
"So how are you?" Murtagh asked.  
"As well as we can be." Remus replied.  
"Dumbledore's been hunting us all over the country, because he thinks we know where Harry is." Sirius added.  
Murtagh frowned. He was concerned for these men, as Harry seemed to care about them.  
"Are you alright?"  
"We're fine." Sirius replied. "We've just got to be careful because he's threatened to turn me in to the Ministry if we don't tell him where Harry is, and if the Ministry get their hands on me, I'll most likely get the dementor's kiss before I can say "Injustice"."  
Murtagh frowned. He remembered Lily telling him of how dementors could suck a person's soul out through a method that was referred to as the dementor's kiss. He did not wish for such a thing to happen to anyone his son cared about.  
"Is there anything I can do?" He asked.  
"Well," Remus began. "If you could find somewhere for us to hide where Dumbledore can't reach..."  
Murtagh smiled.  
"That can be arranged."


	9. Coming together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a glips of what Harry's new life is like at Rider HQ. Then he gets some vissiters.

Chapter 8:  
  
The next couple weeks, in Harry's opinion, were some of the best in his life.  
Every morning he would wake up at the crack of dawn and go down to the Dining Hall to have breakfast. For the first few days, Murtagh would insist upon getting Harry's meals for him, as he wished to ensure Harry had the correct amount of food in his diet, so his stomach could grow to its proper size. It only took Harry a few days before he had had enough and had plucked up the courage to calmly explain to Murtagh that, while he appreciated the concern, he still found this embarrassing. Murtagh had agreed to stop organizing his meals for him. However, he also compiled a list, detailing what foods would be best for improving his diet and, more importantly, the exact quantity of food he should eat. Murtagh "requested" that Harry follow this, so that his body would gain the maximum amount of nutrients and the right amount for his stomach to grow. Harry had reluctantly agreed to this, as he knew that Murtagh only wanted to help him.  
The relationship between him and his father, while still strained at times, was healing. They made it a habit of talking to each other every night, just the two of them, so they could get to know each other a little better. They found that they had a lot in common, in that they only wanted to fit in without people judging them for things that were out of their control.  
They spent the mornings in the east training-yard. They had discovered that he, like Murtagh, was seemingly a natural at sword-fighting. Though at first he had shown a preference to thin agile swords, he also showed potential in short-swords, long-swords and hand-and-a-half swords. The only type of sword that Harry did not seem to be capable of wilding was a broad-sword. Though, this could be due to his smaller and agile body.  
Murtagh had at first been hesitant to reenter the training-yard with Harry, even after he and Eragon had spent practically an entire night healing the teen of his damaged bones. Harry could still remember the day after he had been healed.  
  
It was breakfast, and Harry had just finished eating. The riders were beginning to go and get ready for that day's training, and he had wanted to talk to Murtagh about his own training.  
He walked up to the council table, where his father was just finishing his breakfast. He cleared his throat.  
"Hey, umm, Father?"  
Murtagh looked up at him.  
"Yes, can I help you with something?"  
"Yeah," Harry replied. "I was wondering, now that you've errr, healed me, do you think we could umm, do some more sword training?"  
Murtagh's face turned to the expression which Harry was beginning to call his "I don't want to upset Harry, but I don't want to hurt him", expression.  
"Are you sure it is safe?" Murtagh asked. "After all, you have only just had injuries that were years old healed. Do you really wish to risk getting new ones?"  
"Yes." Harry replied. "Don't worry, I can heal from them."  
"But what if we have a repeat of what happened last time?"  
Harry resisted the urge to role his eyes.  
"Again, I can heal, especially with your magic. Please, stop worrying about me, I've suffered from worse."  
"I can't help but worry about you." Murtagh muttered. He then sighed. "Very well, if that is what you wish."  
  
Once they reached the training-yard, Murtagh once again led him through his stretches. Then, they once again picked blunted training-swords. Then, slowly, they began.  
Harry found that, this time around, it was much easier to move. He had not realized how his bones were effecting him until they had been healed. Before, he had always felt some sort of dull ache throughout his body. He had gotten so used to it, that he had not noticed it until it was gone.  
Now, he felt much more flexible. He seemed to be able to move much faster, and seemed to tire a lot less sooner. He could also breathe much easier, and was much more balanced.  
At first, Murtagh was very, very hesitant to give it even a fraction of his all. But after many, many requests from Harry to stop treating him like a china doll, and assurances that he would be fine, the older man finally began to increase the difficulty. Though this time, he was also very slow in increasing just how much he put into the fight.  
This time, Murtagh was able to control his instincts enough to not accidentally hurt his son, all up to after about an hour or two. However, this time, the resulting injury was not as dramatic, though Murtagh's reaction was still a bit over dramatized, in Harry's opinion.  
This time, it happened when Harry had dodged an attack to his shoulder by ducking and rolling. Just as he was quickly getting up, Murtagh was swinging again. They ended up colliding. The result from the force of Harry's movement, combined with the force of the moving sword, was Harry's arm breaking.  
Miraculously, he managed to keep a grip of his sword, and merely winced at the impact. However, Murtagh was less successful in keeping a grip.  
He instantly dropped his sword and ran to Harry's side.  
"Are you alright?" He asked desperately. "I knew this was a bad idea."  
"Father, calm down." Harry said calmly. "I am fine. It's nothing a little magic can't fix, hint, hint."  
"Oh, right." Murtagh replied.  
He muttered the words for healing and within seconds, Harry's arm was no longer broken.  
"You see, I'm fine." Harry said. "Nothing to worry about."  
"Nothing to worry about?" Murtagh asked incredulously.  
"These are wounds you can heal." Harry replied. "At least it wasn't as bad as last time."  
He looked his father dead in the eye.  
"You need to stop worrying about me so much. I'm not saying you can't worry about me at all, it actually feels kind of nice in some strange way, I'm just saying that you need to stop being such a hover-parent."  
"I am not..." Murtagh began, but Harry held up a hand to cut him off.  
"Yes, you are. I'm not made of glass. I'm going to get hurt, I'm going to get hurt. These injuries just help me grow and improve. How do you expect me to become better at fighting if I don't get hurt?"  
Murtagh looked down.  
"I'm... I'm sorry. I guess that, I am so focused on protecting you, that I keep forgetting that you can protect yourself."  
Harry smiled.  
"Hey, I'm not saying that you can't be protective. Again, it actually feels kind of nice to have an adult that cares. Just, please stop being such a mother-hen."  
Murtagh's lips twitched in a small smile.  
"I'll try."  
Harry smiled.  
"Now, can we get back to training?"  
  
Harry had also become closer to Eragon. While Murtagh was the one to teach him how to use a sword, the younger brother was the one to introduce Harry to the ancient language. He said that it was a fair trade for Harry letting him read his school books and see what could and what couldn't be adapted to be used without a wand by the riders. He also argued that he, too, wanted to get to know Harry.  
Harry could still remember the first time Eragon had shown him the very, very large library. It was even larger than the one at Hogwarts. He could practically imagine Hermione's reaction to it. If she took one step into the Rider's library, they most likely wouldn't see her for a month at least.  
However, unlike the Hogwarts library, this one had a small courtyard with quite a lovely garden.  
First, Eragon had him learn some basic words and phrases in the ancient language. He was very careful in ensuring Harry learnt how to speak these basic phrases before teaching him any form of magic.  
Harry found the Ancient Language quite interesting, though at times it was hard to pronounce. Despite this, Harry had quickly learnt a small handful of words and phrases in the Ancient Language.  
Once he had mastered that skill, Eragon had given him an extensive lecture on the dangers of overworking himself and attempting something that was beyond his capabilities. He also warned him of what could happen if he was not careful with his words, when speaking in the Ancient Language, and to not recklessly use his magic. When Harry had asked him if he had had personal experience with such mistakes, the Rider had gone quiet for a few seconds and had looked down in embarrassment before muttering to himself and suddenly changing the subject.  
Once that was done, he took Harry out into the garden. He had then grabbed a small rock and placed it into the wizard's palm.  
"Now," Eragon began. "Do you remember the word I taught you to levitate?"  
"Yes." Harry replied.  
"Alright." Eragon replied. "I want you to focus on your energy, and channel it into the word, concentrating on making the stone levitate."  
And so Harry concentrated on his energy and thought about the word. At first, he thought it would be easy, as he had learnt how to levitate something in first year. However, that had been with a wand. With this, he had to channel his energy without his conduit.  
Hence, why the stone only shook, instead of levitating.  
"That is alright." Eragon said. "It will take you a few times before you can master it. You just have to be patient, as I am sure you would know from your previous studies."  
"Yeah," Harry replied, smiling. "I just have to get used to not channeling my magic through a wand."  
  
This was how Harry spent his afternoons, in either the library or in the garden with Eragon teaching him the Ancient Language while Murtagh took care of the Rider's training.  
As it turned out, after adjusting to not using a wand, he was quite skilled with using the ancient Language. Perhaps it had something to do with him being a wizard, and therefore having natural talent with magic, but for some reason it just came naturally to him.  
The only problem that he seemed to be having, was the protection of his mind. No matter how much he meditated and concentrated, he could not seem to be capable of blocking his mind from outward attacks. They all found this strange, as Murtagh was considered to have the best guarded mind in all of Alagaësia. Harry was terrified that his failure in this area that his father excelled in would cause the man to become disappointed in him. However, Murtagh was quick to reassure him that this would never be the case.  
The magical training also assisted in Harry becoming closer to Eragon. The Rider evidently felt the same, as it was not long until he was telling Harry that it would be alright for him to call him Uncle. Harry had smiled at this. It felt nice to have an uncle who was pretty much the opposite of Uncle Vernon.  
When he wasn't busy training with his Father or Uncle, he was spending time with his new friends.  
Brinla was a free-spirited young woman, with a kind heart and a tendency to want to help people. She would often show a lot of concern for him whenever he accidentally revealed something about his past, and then she would try to cheer him up. Harry found her company to be enjoyable and he soon felt that he could talk to her about his troubles and not feel uncomfortable, much as he did with Hedwig. Once, he had even commented that she reminded him of his owl friend, but also said that he meant it in a positive way. She had laughed, smiled and thanked him for the complement. Her Dragon, a male named Arnamuith, was just as light-hearted, though a bit more reserved than his Rider.  
Hurzomna, like many elves, was for the most part stoic and calm. Harry quickly learnt that he also had a bit of a vicious streak, but only to those who angered him. Thankfully, Harry seemed to be firmly on his good side. His dragon, a female called Volmea, was slightly kinder, but still unforgiving when it came to those who upset her Rider.  
Every meal, they would sit together and talk, learning more about each other. It felt nice, to talk to people whom he did not have to worry only saw him as "The Boy Who Lived". Though he did still like his old friends, Ron and Hermione, and still thought about them almost every day, he could not deny that he found it easier to connect to his new friends. Perhaps because, to Harry, both Brinla and Hurzomna seemed more mature, and they could somewhat understand him better than either Ron or Hermione could.  
While his life seemed to be going well now, there was still a dark shadow looming over his happiness.  
Sirius and Remus.  
Though they spoke via the mirrors every day, Harry still could not help but worry about them. Dumbledore was still hunting them all over the country. If they got court, Sirius would most likely either be sent back to Azkaban, or worse, be subjected to the dementor's kiss. And Remus, as his accomplice, could very well suffer the same fate.  
Though he had voiced his concerns multiple times, both wizards assured him that there was nothing to worry about and that they had a plan. However, when Harry asked them exactly what the plan was, they would always avoid the question and change the subject. It was honestly getting annoying. All he wanted to know was what they were planning.  
His wish was soon granted.  
  
It was just after breakfast. By Harry's calculations, it was July 30th, the day before his birthday.  
He and Murtagh were walking down the halls to the training-yard as usual.  
However, unlike usual, Murtagh suddenly stiffened.  
"Father, is something wrong?" Harry asked.  
Murtagh frowned, as if concentrating. Then, his lips twitched into his usual small smile.  
"No, nothing is wrong." He replied. "Something has just gone through the wards."  
Harry frowned.  
"What is it?"  
Murtagh turned and went down another corridor, heading to the front entrance.  
"Oh, nothing. Only, well, I suppose you could consider it an early birthday present."  
Harry quickly sped up to follow him.  
"What is it?" He asked, curious.  
"You'll see." Murtagh replied.  
Soon, they exited the large front doors of the Academy, to be met with a very surprising sight.  
Only about a hundred feet or so, the figure of a very familiar Hippogriff had touched down. However, the biggest surprise were the two figures who dismounted from it.  
"Sirius? Remus?" Harry yelled, running up to them in excitement.  
As soon as he reached them, Sirius swept the younger wizard in a tight embrace.  
"Hey, nice to see you too." Sirius said, grinning.  
Sirius let him go, only for Remus to have his turn in hugging him. Once the werewolf had let him go, he looked at the two men in confusion.  
"How did you get here?" He asked.  
"I helped them."  
He turned to see that Murtagh had joined them.  
Suddenly, Harry was aware of his surroundings. He instantly turned to Buckbeak and bowed to him, Murtagh following suit. Once the hippogriff bowed in return, they rose and turned back to the wizards.  
"How did you get here?" Harry repeated.  
"On Buckbeak." Sirius replied, grinning.  
"Yes, I'm aware of that." Harry retorted. "I mean, how did you find this place?"  
"I provided them with directions." Murtagh replied.  
Harry turned to his Father in surprise.  
"How?"  
"Well," Murtagh began. "Just after your race against Saphira, when you were testing your broom against the other riders, I was going to my room when I noticed that mirror of yours was glowing and making a strange sound."  
"And imagine our surprise when we saw this guy, when we were trying to contact you." Sirius continued.  
"Anyway," Remus continued. "We started to talk, Murtagh told us about how you were going, and we told him about being hunted by Dumbledore."  
"I was of course concerned." Murtagh said. "For I knew how much you cared for them. They needed to go somewhere that could not be found by Dumbledore, and I thought that this would be the perfect place, as it is untraceable unless you are willingly assisted by myself or Eragon. So, I..."  
Murtagh was broken off as Harry crashed into him in a very tight embrace. Luckily, he was able to keep his balance.  
"Thank you." Harry said, his head buried in Murtagh's chest. "Thank you, thank you thank you."  
Murtagh patted Harry on the head, still surprised from the contact.  
"It was the least I could do." He said.  
They were both startled by the sound of footsteps. They turned to see Eragon approaching them, his face a mixture of amusement and frustration.  
"More visitors?" Eragon began. "And it would appear you were aware of their arrival Murtagh."  
"Of course." Murtagh replied. "It was I whom directed them here."  
Eragon sighed in frustration.  
"Please do not tell me I have to make the Riders hide in the main building again?"  
"No." Murtagh replied.  
"Well," Eragon said. "At least they look far too old to be your long-lost-offspring."  
"Oh, did you hear that Moony?" Sirius asked dramatically. "He thinks I look old. I don't look old, do I?"  
Harry chuckled and Remus sighed in annoyance at his friend's antics.  
"No," Murtagh replied. "These are friends of Harry, and they used to be friends of Lily and James Potter."  
He gestured towards the two wizards.  
"This is Remus Lupin and Sirius Black."  
"Don't let his name confuse you." Remus muttered. "This man, is almost never serious."  
"On the contrary," Sirius retorted. "I'm always serious."  
Both Harry and Eragon snorted in amusement and Murtagh seemed to be trying really hard not to roll his eyes.  
"Why do I feel like that line is rehearsed?" He muttered.  
The red rider cleared his throat and gestured to his brother.  
"And this, is my brother, Eragon Shadeslayer."  
"It is nice to meet you." Eragon said to the two grown wizards. "Harry has spoken much of you."  
"And he's told us a lot about you too." Remus replied, smiling.  
Sirius narrowed his eyes at the rider, scrutinizing him.  
"So, this is where Harry gets his reckless streak from."  
"What?" Both Eragon and Harry spluttered. "I do not have a reckless streak." They said at the same time.  
"Oh really?" Murtagh asked, raising an eyebrow. "Leaving your home to go on a revenge quest against beasts you hardly know, with no one but an old man and a young dragon for assistance..."  
"Going out of your way to investigate a mysterious corridor, then proceeding to go down said corridor with nothing but your two fellow first-year friends as back up..." Sirius continued.  
"Attempting to go through a large, deadly desert in as short of an amount of time as possible, just so you could save a girl you hardly knew..."  
"Going into a secret chamber and fighting a thousand year old basilisk, with no one but your friend and an idiot of a teacher..."  
"Alright, we get it!" Harry interjected.  
Eragon cleared his throat.  
"Anyway, perhaps we should discuss this somewhere more private."  
"Yes," Murtagh agreed. "Let us all go to my study."  
"First," Sirius interjected. "Buckbeak is probably very tired after our long journey. Is there somewhere he can rest?"  
"Yes, of course." Eragon replied. "Your umm..."  
"Hippogriff." Harry whispered.  
"Yes, your hippogriff," Eragon continued. "Is free to explore the fields, as long as he does not cause to much trouble."  
"Hey," Remus replied. "As long as none of the dragons or anyone else annoys him, he won't annoy them."  
And so, Sirius let Buckbeak loose on the grounds of the rider's academy and the two riders and three wizards proceeded into the main building.  
  
Once they had reached Murtagh's study, they filled Eragon in on the situation. The rider was now looking from Sirius, to Remus, to Murtagh, and finally, to Harry.  
"I of course have no problems with the two of you staying here." He began. "After all, it would seem that you are no longer safe in England, and Harry cares a great deal for you. Any friend of his is welcome."  
The three wizards smiled at this.  
"Thank you." Sirius replied.  
"There's just one thing," Remus continued. "I'm not sure if Harry has informed you, but... I have a... Condition, which makes me..."  
"Yes, Harry has informed us of you being a... Werewolf, was it?"  
Harry nodded.  
Eragon continued.  
"I am sure that we could arrange something for you."  
"Thank you." Remus sighed in relief.  
"So," Eragon said. "I must go check on the riders. Murtagh, perhaps you and Harry could show our new arrivals around."  
Murtagh nodded. Harry jumped to his feet in excitement.  
"Come on, this place is so amazing. And unlike Hogwarts, it's not built like the worlds longest-running prank."  
  
And so father and son showed the two wizards around the Rider's academy, from the training yards, to the large library, to the living quarters, to the many halls. They decided that it would be best for them to take up residence near where Murtagh and Harry slept. The rider was resigned to the fact that his living conditions were now not as private as he had been used to. After all, this was for Harry, and he was willing to sacrifice his own privacy for his son's comfort.  
At dinner that night, Eragon introduced the two men as friends of Harry, who have been granted permission to stay at the rider's academy as their home-land was unsafe for them. Thankfully, he did not get into specifics. The riders were muttering to each other, of course, but for the most part they did not seem overly hostile.  
Later that evening, he and Harry were having one of their late-night conversations, as they always did, when he brought up something that he had been dying to mention.  
"So," He began. "What do you wish to do tomorrow?"  
Harry blinked.  
"Errr, the usual I guess. Maybe we could show Sirius and Remus some of what you and Uncle Eragon have taught me..."  
"That is not what I meant." Murtagh interrupted. "Tomorrow is your birthday."  
Harry shrugged.  
"Yeah, and?"  
"And?" Murtagh asked incredulously.  
Harry shrugged again.  
"It's really no big deal."  
Murtagh sucked in a calming breath. Then he realized.  
"You have never celebrated your birthday, have you?"  
Harry shook his head.  
"The only reason why I know when my birthday is, is because the Dursleys had to put it down when signing me up for primary school, and I accidentally saw them filling out the forms."  
Murtagh sighed. Part of him wasn't surprised this was the case.  
"Really, it's no big deal." Harry repeated. "I've only really gotten anything for my birthday in the past few years, since I've started Hogwarts. But I don't see what's so special about it."  
"Oh, Harry." Murtagh began. "The day that you were born was, quite possibly, both the happiest and saddest day of my life."  
"Oh." Harry replied, blinking. "Still, is it okay if we don't make a big deal out of it? I mean, a couple presents sounds okay. And hey, weren't you going to have me tested by the dragon eggs on my birthday?"  
"If that is what you wish." Murtagh replied.  
Harry smiled.  
"That would be perfect."  
"Shall I go and inform Eragon, Sirius and Remus of your wish?"  
"Sure." Harry replied, smiling. "I already accidentally told Brinla and Hurzomna about my birthday, but I've also asked for them to not make a big deal out of it."  
Murtagh gently squeezed Harry's shoulder. He so wanted to hug him, but their hugs were still either spontaneous or awkward.  
"Well, good night." Murtagh said, standing.  
"Night." Harry replied, crawling into his bed.  
  
It only took Murtagh about half an hour to gather Eragon, Sirius and Remus in his study.  
"Hey, what's with the late-night meeting?" Sirius asked, yawning.  
"I have gathered you here to discuss Harry's birthday tomorrow." Murtagh began.  
Sirius was instantly awake.  
"Oh, great. I've been planning so much, fireworks, a giant cake, still haven't gotten him a mountain of long over-due presents..."  
"Harry does not wish for a large celebration." Murtagh interrupted.  
The three men blinked in surprise.  
"What?" Sirius asked.  
Murtagh sighed.  
"He has never celebrated his birthday properly..."  
"Well, that means we should make it extra special."  
Murtagh shook his head.  
"No, he has told me he would prefer a smaller celebration with only a few presents. The biggest thing he wants is to be tested."  
"Oh, yes, we did plan to test him on his birthday." Eragon said.  
"Tested? What do you mean tested?" Sirius asked.  
Eragon and Murtagh exchanged a look.  
"Tested to see if any of the dragon eggs will hatch for him, making him a rider." Murtagh finally said.  
Both Sirius and Remus blinked in surprise.  
"Wait, a dragon rider? You mean like the two of you?" Sirius asked.  
The two riders nodded.  
"Don't you think he's a bit young?" Remus asked.  
"Actually, most of our new riders are around his age." Eragon retorted.  
"Are you sure he's ready?" Sirius retorted.  
"It was what he wanted." Murtagh replied. "We gave him the option, and it was his choice to make. And anyway, I believe that he has more than proved himself ready."  
"If he became a rider, then he will have a constant companion, someone who will be bonded to him in both mind and soul. Someone who he can confide in and who will be loyal to him no matter what." Eragon continued.  
The two wizards exchanged a long look. Finally, Remus sighed.  
"If this is what Harry wants." He said.  
Murtagh smiled.  
"It's not even certain that he will become a rider." He said.  
"Though he has more than proved himself worthy." Eragon retorted.  
"Well, we shall know this time tomorrow."  
And with that, the four men parted for their respective rooms.


	10. Rising from ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's first birthday with his family.

Chapter 9:  
The next morning, Harry awoke to see Hedwig perched on his bed-side desk, several letters tied to her legs.  
He smiled. His feathered companion had been missing for the past week or so. He had become extremely concerned, worried that she had gotten lost. He had gone so far as to, with help from his father, interrogate the dragons to see if they had accidentally eaten a snowy white owl. Thankfully, this hadn't been the case.  
"Hey, girl." He said, smiling.  
He reached out an arm and Hedwig hopped onto it, the letters shaking with the movement.  
"So was that what you were doing?" He said, patting her head. "You could tell I missed my friends and decided to get some mail from them."  
Hedwig hooted.  
"Well do you think you could tell me before leaving?" Harry continued in a gentle tone. "I was very worried about you. I thought that one of the dragons accidentally ate you."  
Hedwig hooted.  
"Don't you laugh at me." Harry retorted, though he was grinning.  
He untied the letters from her legs and she flew back to the top of his wardrobe. Looking down at the letters, he could see that they were from Ron, Hermione and Hagrid. After a few seconds, he decided to open the letter from Ron first.  
  
Harry,  
Mate, where are you? About a week ago Dumbledore came to our house and asked if we'd seen you. When he told us you weren't at your Aunt and Uncle's house, everyone went crazy. Mum started panicking, and dad wasn't much better. He said that he would ask for help from all of his friends at the ministry, but Dumbledore said that we shouldn't make this public. But Fred and George, they actually started laughing. Dumbledore of course told them that this was no laughing matter, because you weren't safe out of your Aunt's house. They told him, straight to his face, that you weren't safe in your Aunt's house, and that they were surprised you hadn't done a runner sooner. Mum got angry at them, but I can't help agreeing with them. I mean, remember when the twins and I had to save you with dad's flying car and they had bars on your window?  
You should see Hermione. She's panicking as bad as mum. Going to warn you, she might be ranting to you in her letter.  
Hope you are okay. We'll be going to the Quidditch World Cup soon. Maybe I'll see you there. If not, hopefully on the train.  
See you soon,  
Ron.  
  
Harry smiled. He would have loved to see Fred and George tell off Dumbledore. Maybe, when he sees them next, he will ask them to pull a few pranks on the old fool. Or maybe he'll ask them to teach him some of their tricks.  
He then frowned. He didn't like it that everyone was panicking so much. Admittedly, when he had made the decision to go looking for his father, he hadn't thought about how his friends and the Weasleys would react to it. He had still been shocked that he wasn't quite a Potter, a bit angry that his father had just abandoned him, which led to him living with the Dursleys, and worried that he wouldn't be accepted. Now, he felt guilty for this oversight.  
He then turned to Hagrid's letter, as Hermione's seemed bigger and, if Ron's prediction was true, then he would prefer to keep the long scolding for last.  
  
Harry,  
Where the ruddy hell are ya? Do ya know how worried we are?  
Though, I can't blame ya fer doin a runna. I'm surprised ya didn't run a long time ago. Thoughs Dursleys are the wops' kinda people.  
But ya could have told us wha ya were doin. Now we don' know where ya are and Dumbledore's gone crazy.  
Jus' please, be careful. Hope ta see ya at the beginning O term,  
Hagrid.  
  
Harry smiled. His extremely large friend had gotten a small taste of what the Dursleys were like. So of course he would be a little understanding of why he had left. However, Hagrid was unfortunately extremely loyal to Dumbledore. This was concerning. He did not like keeping secrets from his friends, and was planning on telling Ron and Hermione everything once he saw them. However, he feared that he could not tell Hagrid. If Hagrid knew, then he was sure to tell Dumbledore. Even if he asked the giant of a man to not tell anyone, the man couldn't keep a secret to save his life.  
He cared about Hagrid, he really did. Which is why his chest hurt when he thought of how he could not tell his friend the truth.  
Sucking in a deep breath, he decided to bite the bullet and read Hermione's letter.  
It was reasonably longer than the other two, and her hand-writing was not as neat as it usually was, as if she had been very emotional when writing.  
  
Harry James Potter! What do you think you are doing? How dare you do something so reckless and idiotic? When Dumbledore told me that you were missing, you could not imagine how worried I was. You better not be running around the country with Sirius. Do you know how dangerous that could be? Even if Sirius is perfectly safe, the man has a kiss-on-sight order on his head! And there is no telling what trouble you could get into...  
  
With every sentence, Harry became paler and paler. He did not think he had ever seen Hermione so angry. She may not have used bad language, but, oh Merlin, she had quite the imagination. Particularly when it came to threats concerning several parts of his body.  
Her angry rambling went on for almost two pages.  
  
... Yes, from what I have heard, you had a lot to justify the want to leave your relatives. However, I feel it was unnecessary to just pack up and leave without warning us. Please Harry, tell us where you are so we can ensure you are safe.  
Hope to hear from you soon,  
Hermione.  
  
Harry let out a breath he had not known he was holding. He thought he should reply to his friends' concerns, as it was an entire month until the beginning of term and he did not wish for them to worry too much over him for too long.  
He then looked at Hedwig. She had just come home from a long journey. She was most likely tired. So, Harry decided to wait a couple days for Hedwig to recover, before sending out his replies.  
He tucked the letters into one of the draws in his desk, just as he heard a knocking at his door.  
"Yes?" He said, turning to the door.  
It opened and Murtagh stepped in, holding something wrapped in a cloth.  
"Harry?" The man asked, looking at him. "Are you alright? You seem a bit pale."  
"Oh, I'm fine." He replied. "I guess I'm still a little shaken up."  
Murtagh came and sat on the bed beside him.  
"What happened?"  
"Well," Harry began. "Hedwig returned."  
He gestured to the wardrobe, where Hedwig was now sleeping with her head underneath her wig.  
"And she returned with some letters from my friends, Ron, Hermione and Hagrid. They were all concerned about me. Ron and Hagrid seemed more understanding of my reasoning, because they knew a bit about how bad the Dursleys were. But Hermione... She kind of sent me a two page rant on how worried they all were and told me that I had been stupid and reckless. And you don't want to know what kind of threats she made."  
Harry shivered at the thought.  
"Ah, well," Murtagh began. "What will you be doing concerning this?"  
"First, I'm going to give Hedwig a couple days of rest." Harry replied. "Then I'm going to send them replies, telling them that I'm safe and that they don't have to worry."  
"Are you sure that this will work?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"It's the best I can do."  
He looked down.  
"I... I guess I wasn't thinking about how this would impact my friends. I was just... You know..."  
Murtagh put a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
"Do not worry. You were overwhelmed by emotion and not thinking straight. You do not have to feel guilty for your decision."  
Harry looked up at him and smiled.  
"Now," The rider continued. "Enough of this. You shouldn't be upset on such a special day."  
Harry groaned.  
"Please don't tell me you're going to make a big deal out of this."  
"Do not worry." Murtagh replied. "I have already informed Eragon, Sirius and Remus that you do not wish for a large celebration."  
"Thanks." Harry said, relieved.  
Murtagh gave him one of his rare, genuine smiles.  
"I have come here because I wish to be the first to give you your present."  
Harry felt his face warming up.  
"You didn't have to..."  
"Of course I did." Murtagh retorted. "You are long over-due for some gifts."  
"No, really," Harry said. "I don't want anything. Being here, with you, is enough."  
Murtagh smiled again.  
"Still, I had to get you something. It's not much, but I have a feeling you will like it."  
He handed Harry the object wrapped in cloth. It was long, thin, and heavier than he had expected, but still light. Hesitantly, he unwrapped it, to reveal a long, thin sword, in a leather scabbard. His eyes widened.  
"No way." He breathed.  
Murtagh smiled.  
"Is this..." Harry began. "Is this... A real sword?"  
"Yes." Murtagh replied. "I know that you have shown talent for many other kinds of swords, but you seem to be most skilled in this design."  
Harry continued to look at it with wide eyes.  
"Can I... Can I have a look at it?"  
"Go ahead." Murtagh replied. "But be careful, it is really sharp."  
Harry stood up and, slowly, removed the sword from its scabbard.  
He could not help the thrill that filled him when he heard the steel of the sword sliding against its leather casing. He watched in wonder as the blade caught the light of the rising sun. It was so beautiful, and it was his.  
"Thank you." He said in almost a whisper, still staring at the blade.  
"It was the least I could do." Murtagh replied. "As much as I know you wish to look at your sword more, I believe we should get to breakfast before someone becomes worried."  
Harry smiled and put the sword back in its sheath. He got dressed and clipped the leather scabbard to his belt. Together, he and Murtagh went to breakfast.  
  
Just before they reached the dining hall, they were stopped by Remus, Sirius and Eragon. All three men were smiling.  
"Happy birthday." They said in unison.  
Harry groaned.  
"I thought you asked them to not make a big deal." He hissed to Murtagh.  
"Don't worry," Remus replied. "We won't. We just thought we should give you your present now, because we thought that you wouldn't want to draw attention to yourself."  
"Thanks." Harry said, smiling.  
"And don't worry," Remus continued. "I talked Sirius out of the fireworks."  
Sirius pouted.  
"Come on, it would have been fun."  
Harry chuckled.  
"Maybe next year." He said.  
The wizard instantly cheered up.  
"Well, until then," He began. "We thought that you might want something to add some excitement to your life that doesn't involve putting yourself into danger."  
He pulled out a book. Harry raised an eyebrow, but took it anyway.  
His eyes widened.  
"The Marauders' Trickster Hand-Book."  
"Wow." Harry said. "Thanks."  
Sirius grinned.  
"Feel free to share it with a certain pair of twins."  
Harry chuckled. Oh, this was going to be fun.  
Remus cleared his throat.  
"Anyway," He began. "I have decided to give you a more... Practical gift."  
He pulled out what appeared to be a simple woven bracelet.  
"Errr, thanks?" Harry said in almost a question.  
"This," Remus began. "Has several tracking charms on it. This is to ensure that, if you do get into trouble, that we will be able to find you. It is also charmed to be unbreakable. And I also have this."  
He pulled out a second bracelet.  
"This will act like a portkey, an object which can teleport you anywhere. It is linked to the first bracelet, and will help its wearer go to your location at once. The bracelet will also warm up if the person wearing its counterpart is in trouble."  
Harry smiled.  
"I will take that." Murtagh said instantly. "If that is alright with you." He added, looking at Harry.  
"Yeah, sure." Harry replied. "I mean, this might help with you being such a hover-parent."  
"I am not a..." Murtagh began, but stopped, obviously deciding that it was better not to start the argument again.  
They both took their respective bracelet and put them on.  
"Now then," Eragon began, smiling. "I am aware that Murtagh has already given you a sword..."  
At this, Sirius and Remus spluttered in shock.  
"However, I believe that it is a good idea to keep a spare weapon with you, just in case certain people steel your primary weapon." He continued, glaring jokingly at Murtagh at the last part.  
He then pulled out a small object wrapped in cloth. Harry took it and unwrapped it, to reveal a dagger in its own leather sheathe. It appeared to be a smaller twin of his sword.  
He looked up at his uncle and smiled.  
"Thanks." He said.  
He then, very gently and with some help from Murtagh, placed it in his boot. He stood back up.  
"How do I look?" He asked.  
Eragon examined him for a long time. Then, much to his surprise, the man broke into laughter.  
"What, do I look funny or something?" Harry said, a little worried that he looked silly.  
"No, no." Eragon panted. "It is just that... You only need a horn and a bow and you will look just as Murtagh did when I first met him, only a little younger, with a different style of sword, and with different coloured eyes."  
Harry blinked, then looked at Murtagh. His father looked right back at him.  
"You know, he has a point." Murtagh said.  
Harry smiled.  
"Thanks."  
"Come on," Sirius interrupted. "Let's go have breakfast. I want to see how good Harry is with that thing."  
He pointed to the sword at Harry's waist.  
Harry laughed and continued walking down the halls, the four men following him.  
  
When they reached the Dining Hall, he organized his usual breakfast and walked to where he usually sat with Hurzomna and Brinla.  
His two friends were already their, and they smiled at him as he sat.  
"Happy birthday Harry." Brinla said at once.  
"Shhhh." Harry said, his eyes darting around the hall nervously. "I don't want anyone to make a big deal about it."  
"As you wish." Hurzomna sighed. "Though, I do not know why you would not wish to celebrate the day of your birth. Surely it would be a joyous occasion."  
Harry shrugged.  
"Sorry, I'm just not used to people caring about when I was born."  
Both his friends expressions darkened, however, it seemed that they were finally getting used to learning that Harry's life had not exactly been the best.  
"Anyway," Brinla began, a smile creeping onto her face. "We have worked together to make you a present."  
"Oh, you didn't...." Harry argued.  
"Yes, we did." Brinla said forcefully. "You are our friend, and it is the least we could do."  
Hurzomna then turned to a sack that he had not previously seen. From the sack, he drew a simple yet ornate wooden box.  
"Oh, a box. You shouldn't have." Harry said jokingly.  
Hurzomna rolled his eyes.  
"It is inside the box." He replied.  
Harry took the box and removed the lid. Inside, there was a glittering silver necklace with what appeared to be a deep red ruby pendant. The chain was made to resemble the scales of a snake, or maybe even a dragon.  
"Wow," He said. "This is, this is beautiful."  
"Thank you." Brinla said, smiling. "I made it myself, with some magical assistance from Hurzomna."  
"How?" He asked.  
Brinla shrugged.  
"My Father is a blacksmith. I was always helping him in the forge, as I was the oldest and I had no brothers, only two younger sisters. We discovered early on that I had a talent for forging jewelry and artwork."  
Harry smiled.  
"Thanks, this is possibly one of the most beautiful things I own."  
Brinla smiled at the praise.  
"It's appearance is not the only good quality." She said. "Hurzomna helped me enchant it."  
He turned to his elven friend.  
"It was just some simple enchantments." The elf said. "Some spells to preserve it so the silver never tarnished. The ruby can also be used to store magical energy, just in case you needed a little extra."  
Harry smiled.  
"Thanks." He said again.  
"So, do you have any special plans for today?" Brinla asked.  
Harry shrugged.  
"I'm hoping that Father will let me try out the new sword he gave me, but I'm not sure if he will, as he tends to think I'm made out of glass whenever we enter the training-yard."  
The three laughed at this.  
"And then," Harry began hesitantly. "Well, this afternoon, I have organized with my Father and Eragon to be tested by the eggs."  
Both of the young riders' eyes widened. Then, Brinla's face broke out into a large grin and even Hurzomna's lips twitched in a smile.  
"Oh, this is incredible." She said excitedly. "You are to be a Dragon Rider. This will be amazing. I am so happy for you."  
Harry shifted in his seat nervously.  
"We don't even know if any of the eggs will find me worthy." He argued.  
"Of course they will find you worthy." Brinla argued. "You have already proven yourself to be a great and mighty hero. You are Deathsbane."  
Harry looked down in embarrassment at the name the Riders still called him from time to time. It had actually stuck, much as Shadeslayer had stuck to Eragon, or, to a lesser extent, the name Kingkiller had stuck to Murtagh.  
"I agree." Hurzomna replied. "I would honestly be more surprised if you are not a Rider by the end of the day."  
"Thanks." Harry said, embarrassed from the praise.  
He instantly began to feel nervous. What if an egg didn't hatch for him?  
He shook his head. He would find out in a few hours.  
  
Much to Harry's surprise, Murtagh did actually allow him to use his new sword. He said that he wished for him to become accustomed to the feel of the sword and to learn to be careful with the sharper blade. He showed Harry a spell to shield the blade, so that he did not accidentally hurt himself or anyone while using it.  
Finally, they began to fight. To make the fight authentic, Murtagh had even brought a proper sword of his own. However, it was not his Zar-roc that he wielded.  
Harry raised an eyebrow.  
"Is that Uncle's sword?"  
"Yes." Murtagh replied.  
"Why are you using his sword?" Harry continued. "Don't you have your own?"  
Murtagh sighed and looked down.  
"I do not feel comfortable using Zar-roc against you."  
Harry blinked, but decided not to press the issue.  
"Okay." He said simply. "Let's just begin."  
Harry absolutely loved his new sword. Everything from the design to the grip was perfect for him. Unlike the old blunted swords, his glowed in the sunlight. It was beautiful.  
Every time he swung his sword, he felt a thrill go through him. It was incredible.  
Though Murtagh eventually defeated him, he was still smiling by the end of it.  
  
Just after lunch, he was led by Murtagh and Eragon from the main building to a smaller hall. Though it seemed unoccupied, the building was well kept and from what he could sense thanks to his training in the Ancient Language, was heavily warded.  
They led him to a small door at the front of the building. Both Murtagh and Eragon turned to him.  
"Harry Murtaghsson," Eragon began. "Within these walls are the eggs of the Dragon Riders. You have come here to be tested, to see if you are worthy of being a Dragon Rider."  
Murtagh continued.  
"Once you become a Rider, there is no turning back. It is a life long responsibility. You and your dragon will become guardians of the balance of magic in the world. Are you ready?"  
Harry did not hesitate in his reply.  
"Yes, I am."  
"Very well." Eragon replied. "Enter and examine the eggs. Find which calls to you the most, not by its visual aspects but by your instincts and your magic."  
The two men turned and placed their right hands on the door. Red and blue magic glowed. They removed their hands and the door creaked open.  
Harry sucked in a deep breath, and walked towards the door.  
Just before he entered, Murtagh stopped him.  
"Remember Harry," He whispered in his ear. "That no matter what happens, I will always love you."  
Harry smiled at him and walked through the door.  
The door closed behind him, and Harry was left alone with the dragon eggs.  
  
For what felt like several hours, he wandered around the building. There was absolutely no light in the room. Harry supposed this was to help potential riders to search with their feelings and not their eyes.  
He felt around the shelves. There were not as many eggs as he would have thought, only around fifty or so. He felt every single one of them.  
However, his attention kept straying back to one in particular. He did not know why he was drawn to this one, it was just something inside of him, telling him that this one was more important than the rest. Maybe this was what Eragon meant by using his instincts.  
Eventually, he stopped looking at the other eggs and just sat down with the one that he kept going back to.  
It was quite large, almost too big for him to hold in one hand. He placed the egg in his lap.  
"Hey there." He began, feeling a bit silly for talking to an egg. "Guess it's pretty lonely, being stuck in an egg that's stuck in a dark building."  
He continued to sit and talk to the egg.  
"I guess I can kind of get it. For ten years I had a small cupboard under the stairs as a bedroom. It was also where I was sent whenever my relatives wanted to punish me. They weren't the nicest people ever. But hey, I've now got my Father, an awesome uncle, a godfather, an honorary uncle, and some friends to help me. Maybe soon I'll have a dragon."  
He felt the surface of the egg. It was smooth, and somewhat warm.  
"It sucks, being alone. I've felt like that for most of my life. It's really hard. When your alone, it's hard to fight the dark thoughts. But every time I felt myself falling to my dark thoughts, I just reminded myself that I needed to be strong, to show everyone that it would take a lot more to push me down."  
He shifted a little to get more comfortable.  
"So many people have tried to push me down, to take me out, to make me feel like I wasn't good enough. But I'm still here, standing stronger than ever. I guess what they say is true, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."  
He stroked the egg.  
"You know, from where I come from I'm famous for surviving a dark wizard who tried to kill me as a baby. I guess that that's what I am. I am a surviver."  
Suddenly, he heard a cracking sound. He jerked in surprise. Then, there was another. And another. He realized that it was the egg.  
Though he couldn't see it, he could still feel as the egg shook. He could hear as the dragon within it broke through the shell.  
Finally, he felt several shards of the shell flying away, and a small claw touch his leg.  
Harry reached out his hand and felt for where the dragon was crouched in his lap. As soon as his hand met what he believe to be the dragon's back, a sudden shock went up his arm. He felt a stab of pain in the palm of his hand. He could feel a rush of energy go through his entire body.  
Just as quickly as it came, the pain and the rush stopped. Harry could sense a new, unfamiliar yet not unwelcome presence in his mind.  
[Hello there.]  
He said tentatively.  
Instead of words, Harry was answered by feelings of joy and excitement.  
Harry smiled.  
  
For several hours after Harry entered the egg chamber, Murtagh and Eragon waited outside.  
At first, Murtagh sat in the grass and waited patiently. However, he was soon pacing back and forth.  
"Murtagh, what are you so worried about?" Eragon asked. "After all, you are not the one being tested."  
"I know that." Murtagh replied, a little more sharply than he intended. "I am only concerned."  
Eragon sighed.  
"Murtagh, we have discussed this several times. You do not and should not have to worry about how Harry is viewed if he becomes a Rider."  
Murtagh glared at his brother.  
"And what if someone attempts to force him into slavery just as Thorn and I were?"  
Eragon sighed.  
"Murtagh, you do not have to worry so much about this. Last I was aware, there are not any dark sorcerers who are making a grasp for power."  
"But there could be." Murtagh argued. "You never know. One could be rising as we speak."  
"And I highly doubt they would go after Harry specifically."  
"Why wouldn't they?" Murtagh argued. "After all, Harry is famous for defeating a dark wizard when he was an infant. And he is also the son of Murtagh Morzanson Kingkiller and the nephew of Eragon Shadeslayer."  
"Yes, exactly." Eragon replied. "And we will not let anything happen to Harry."  
[Nor shall we.]  
Thorn agreed as he and Saphira landed next to their Riders.  
[We can sense that he is close to becoming a Rider.]  
A sudden thrill went through him.  
[Are you sure?]  
[Yes.]  
Thorn replied.  
[I can sense that an egg is about to hatch.]  
Murtagh could not stop the large smile that spread across his face. Despite his worries, this was still a great moment. His son was about to become a Dragon Rider.  
His heart swelled with pride and his eyes filled with tears of joy.  
His feelings were only amplified when he sensed the surge of magic that came from the egg chamber.  
He looked to Eragon, who was smiling just as widely.  
"I knew he could do it." Eragon said.  
Still smiling, both men turned to the door and opened it. Once the door opened, he could see Harry, sitting on the floor with a newly hatched dragon in his lap. Murtagh was over-joyed to see his son as a Dragon Rider. However, he could not prevent the stab of fear that came once he saw the colour of his son's dragon.  
Red, of course. Morzan, him, now Harry. A legacy of red.  
Still, he smiled as Harry got to his feet, clutching the dragon to his chest like a small child. His son walked to him and he instantly wrapped the young man in a strong embrace.  
  
Later that night, Harry was sitting on his bed, his little dragon attempting to wander around on unsteady legs. Harry thought that it was really cute. Maybe this was what Hagrid saw in Norbert, only Harry was not about to call himself mummy.  
After he had returned with Murtagh, Eragon, and his dragon, he had instantly gone up to his room, still holding his new little friend. Murtagh and Eragon had informed him that, tomorrow, they would have a ceremony officially making him part of the Dragon Rider order. Harry was both excited and nervous. On one hand, he was hoping that, by becoming one of the order, he would finally find somewhere where he could fit in, just as he felt when first entering the wizarding world, just before he discovered the dark truth.  
However, he was also afraid of being rejected by the Riders. While most of them had somewhat grown to trust him, there was still the fear of rejection that had been beaten into him by the Dursley's abuse.  
Thankfully, he had his dragon, who sent him feelings of joy and comfort.  
Now, he was looking through a book of Dragon names, while occasionally glancing over at his dragon. Thanks to Thorn and Saphira, he knew that his dragon was a female, so that was the kind of name he was looking for. He was just having trouble finding the right one.  
[Hmm,]  
He began.  
[How about Delil?]  
The dragon shook her head.  
[Okay, how about Iomnaeni?]  
Again, she shook her head.  
Harry went through a few more names. Finally, he found one.  
[Okay, how about Colaen?]  
For the first time, her head perked up. On her wobbly legs, she walked over to the bed and jumped up next to him.  
[Do you like it?]  
He asked.  
For a long time in which Harry believed she was thinking about it, she was silent. Finally, Harry felt emotions of satisfaction.  
[Okay, Colaen it is.]  
He smiled.  
The newly named Colaen jumped off of the bed again and walked to his wardrobe. She nudged open the door to reveal where Harry had dumped all of his old clothes from the Dursleys in a large pile at the bottom. Colaen tugged on one of the horrid garments.  
Harry put the book down and got up from the bed. He walked over to the wardrobe.  
[Don't.]  
He said.  
[I highly doubt they taste nice.]  
He picked up what Colaen had been pulling on and rinkled his nose.  
[My relatives made me wear these.]  
He continued.  
[Disgusting, I know. I just haven't gotten around to disposing of them.]  
He grinned.  
[I believe that last time I thought about getting rid of those rags, I wanted to burn them.]  
He chuckled at the thought.  
Colaen sent him an image of the pile of clothes burning and a feeling of satisfaction.  
Harry glanced at his dragon.  
[You think I should do it?]  
Colaen did something that Harry supposed was the dragon equivalent of a nod.  
Harry thought for a second.  
[Well, there is a pretty large fire-pit. I guess I could ask Father if I could use it.]  
Harry could feel the excitement from his dragon.  
He smiled.  
[Alright, lets go do it.]  
And with that, he scooped up Colaen and left his room.  
  
Harry found Murtagh in his bedroom, reading. When the door opened, the man looked up to see him.  
"Hello Harry." He said, smiling. "Have you and your Dragon agreed on a name yet?"  
"Yeah." Harry replied, smiling. "We've decided to call her Colaen."  
Murtagh smiled.  
"That is a wonderful name."  
"But that's not why I came here." Harry continued, still smiling. "I was wondering, is it okay if I used the fire-pit?"  
Murtagh frowned.  
"I suppose, but..."  
"Thanks."  
And with that, Harry quickly left the room.  
"Wait!" Murtagh called, running after his son.  
Fortunately, he did not catch up to Harry until the younger rider had reached his room. Harry, still holding Colaen, walked into his room and opened the wardrobe fully.  
"Wait!"  
Harry turned to see Murtagh, panting, in his doorway.  
"What are you doing?"  
"Oh, nothing." Harry replied, grinning.  
Murtagh frowned.  
"What are you planning?"  
"Oh, well," Harry began. "You know how I still have all these old things from the Dursleys?"  
"Yes." Murtagh replied suspiciously.  
"Well, I've decided to get rid of them." Harry replied.  
"And why would you need the fire-pit?" Murtagh asked, though Harry suspected he knew the answer.  
"To burn them of course." Harry replied.  
Murtagh sighed and rubbed his temples.  
"Why are you burning them?"  
"Why wouldn't I burn them?" Harry retorted. "I want to get rid of them, permanently."  
Murtagh sighed and walked into the room. He then picked up the large pile of clothes.  
"I shall assist you, as it appears your arms are currently full of a newly hatched dragon."  
Harry chuckled.  
"Okay, but I want to start the fire."  
It was so late at night that there was hardly anyone in the halls. They did not meet anyone as they went down to the fire-pit, Murtagh carrying the clothes and Harry carrying Colaen.  
Once they left the doors and reached the fire pit, Murtagh dumped the disgusting clothes on the fire-pit and Harry gently placed Colaen on one of the logs surrounding it.  
[Stay there.]  
He said.  
[I don't care how pretty the fire is, it will hurt you if you go to close.]  
He patted his dragon on her head.  
He turned and walked closer to the fire-pit and the pile of clothes.  
With great satisfaction, he said, "Brisingr", and stepped back as the red flames went up.  
He walked over to the log where Colaen was and sat beside her. Murtagh sat on his other side.  
Together, they watched the flames clime high. A smile spread across his face as he watched the horrible rags that he had been forced to call clothes went up in smoke. These were the last physical objects that tethered him to his horrible relatives, and they were now burning away.  
He thought about his childhood, of the scared little boy curled up in his cupboard and longing for someone to love him. Of the lonely days and nights that he cried himself to sleep and wished for the pain to end, one way or another. For so long, he had been alone.  
He looked to his Father, then to his dragon. Two people who loved him.  
He thought about all that he had now, friends, family, people who loved him for him, and not for his fame. He had a home.  
He looked at the fire again.  
He had had an awful childhood. He had dreamt for so long of leaving his tormenters behind.  
Well now he had.  
He had been through hell, and he pushed through it. He was strong, he was a surviver.  
As he watched the fire, he thought that the clothes were not the only things burning away.  
The scared little boy in the cupboard was gone. And from his ashes, like a phoenix, he rose. He was covered in scars, both the kinds that could be seen and that could not be seen. But he was stronger for them.  
And, finally, he could feel as if he could put his past and the Dursleys behind him.


	11. New beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is officially welcomed into the Rider order, gets closer to his new dragon, and finds out stuff he would rather not know.

Chapter 10:  
  
Harry felt warm. He felt more comfortable than he had ever felt. In his sleep, he could sense another new presence. This brought him joy. He could honestly not remember the last time he had had such a pleasant dream.  
Unfortunately, he was brought out of his pleasant slumber by a voice.  
"Harry."  
Harry felt himself returning to the waking world.  
"Harry."  
He blearily opened his eyes, his vision blurred due to the absence of his glasses.  
"Wah... I'm awake, I'm awake." He said drowsily.  
He could hear a chuckle.  
"While I am perfectly aware that Riders are meant to be close to their dragons, I do not think that they are meant to be that close."  
"Ha..."  
Harry then realized that there was a small, warm scaly body snuggled into him. He then sat up slowly and reached out to his bed-side desk and groped around, finally finding his glasses. When he put them on, he saw Colaen snuggled into his chest.  
He blinked for a moment, before he remembered that he had fallen asleep cuddling his dragon like a teddy-bear.  
"Oh, right." He muttered, feeling his face become warmer.  
He heard another chuckle. He turned to see Murtagh, holding what appeared to be some folded clothing.  
"Good morning." His father greeted.  
"Morning." Harry replied, sitting up.  
He then sensed that Colaen was slowly waking up.  
[Good morning.]  
Harry said, trying to stir his dragon into wakefulness.  
Colaen sent him feelings of annoyance, but woke up nonetheless.  
Harry chuckled and looked out of the window.  
"What the..." He muttered in surprise.  
He then turned to his father in surprise.  
"Any reason why you're waking us up before the sun?" He asked.  
"For the ceremony." Murtagh replied. "It is meant to be held at sunrise to symbolize a new beginning."  
"Well, couldn't you have mentioned that I would be waking up earlier than usual?" He muttered, swinging his legs out of bed.  
Colaen climbed out of his bed and blearily stretched her limbs.  
Murtagh shrugged.  
"I warned you that you might want to have an early night, but you insisted upon using your old clothes as a bonfire."  
He then came to sit on the bed beside Harry.  
"I have brought you some new clothes." He began. "These are meant for special occasions. You could also wear ceremonial armour, but we have unfortunately not had enough time to craft any for you yet."  
"That's okay, thanks." Harry replied, taking the clothes from Murtagh.  
He unfolded them to reveal a red tunic with black leggings. He smiled.  
"Awesome." He said.  
"You like it?" Murtagh asked.  
"Love it." He replied. "I was thinking of asking you for some red clothes, to add some colour to my new wardrobe, but I didn't want to upset you because you apparently have a phobia for the colour red."  
"Where did you get such an idea?" Murtagh asked.  
Harry shrugged.  
"Uncle told me." He replied. "He said that you were afraid that red would be another way for people to associate us with Morzan."  
Murtagh's eyes flickered with annoyance.  
"Of course he told you." His father muttered.  
Harry grinned. As he spent more time at the Rider's academy, he found it easier to read Murtagh's expressions. Either he was getting better at reading him, or Murtagh was getting better at expressing himself. Either way, it made Harry feel happy to have such a connection.  
Murtagh cleared his throat.  
"Anyway," He began. "You have about half an hour to get ready and meet the rest of us in the field out of the front doors."  
"Okay," Harry replied, smiling. "Thanks."  
He suddenly felt something wriggling in his stomach. He felt a little lightheaded.  
Murtagh obviously noticed the change, as he put a hand on Harry's shoulder.  
"Do not be nervous." He said.  
"I'm not." Harry retorted.  
"Still..." Murtagh replied. "There is nothing to worry about."  
Harry smiled.  
"I'm okay."  
Murtagh gave Harry's shoulder one final squeeze, and then he left.  
Harry sucked in a deep breathe. He stood up and examined the clothes. They looked like they would fit him. The red of the tunic matched Colaen's scales perfectly.  
[Guess they keep a stock of all the shades of red.]  
Harry said to Colaen.  
The small dragon walked up to him and eyed the new clothes. She sent him feelings of questioning with an image of Harry in the clothes.  
[Yeah, you're right.]  
Harry replied to the unspoken question.  
[I should hurry up and get dressed.]  
He quickly took off his night-clothes and put on the new formal outfit. Within five minutes, he was looking at himself in the mirror on his wardrobe. He was nervously adjusting his tunic and running his fingers through his hair, attempting to tame it.  
He wouldn't admit it, but he was nervous.  
This would be the first time that the Riders would see him with his new dragon. Though they had become used to him being at the academy, and many of them had grown to either like or even respect him, the situation had changed. Now, he was an actual Rider. Now, he would become one of them.  
But what if they didn't accept him as one of them?  
There was a big difference between being someone who lived at the Riders academy, and actually being one of the Riders themselves. What if they no longer accepted him at the academy? What if he became an outcast here, much as he was at Hogwarts?  
A sudden fear then gripped him.  
What if Murtagh's fears were true, and Harry being a red Rider instantly made everyone believe he was like Morzan? What if they came to fear or even hate him? And if they did treat Harry this way, what would they do to Colaen? This would be the first time they saw her, and while she was only a new hatchling, they all knew that she would grow into a mighty dragon. What if she was treated by them with the same fear that they would associate with him? Harry did not wish for Colaen to feel the pain of being alone, as he had felt for most of his life. He had seen every dragon in the academy by now, and not one was red save for Thorn and now Colaen. Surely this could not be a coincidence.  
He was broken out of his thoughts by a tugging at his leggings. He looked down to see Colaen.  
His dragon sent him a comforting feeling, along with an image. It was the image of the two of them together. Then she showed him an image of Murtagh. Then Thorn, Eragon, Saphira, and even Sirius and Remus.  
Harry smiled.  
[Thanks.]  
He said.  
[You're right. No matter what the Riders think, we won't be alone.]  
He picked up his dragon and hugged her tightly.  
[We won't have to be alone ever again.]  
He smiled.  
[Come on. Are you ready to meet some people?]  
Colaen sent him feelings of joy and excitement.  
Harry smiled. She was right. He did not have to worry about being an outcast ever again.  
  
The sun was just rising when Harry walked out the front doors of the Rider's Academy, Colaen by his side.  
He could see every Rider and dragon had gathered and were currently standing in a crowd before him. The many colours were just visible under the shadows of the new day.  
As soon as Harry and Colaen left the building, every head turned to them. He could hear them muttering, but he just ignored them. Colaen sent him feelings of reassurance. He sucked in a long nervous breathe and continued his walk forward.  
When he was within a few feet of the crowd, they all parted, giving him and Colaen a wide path heading to where Murtagh, Thorn, Eragon and Saphira stood, waiting for them.  
As dragon and Rider walked down the isle, Harry could still hear the muttering. He continued to ignore them.  
Finally, he reached the other end. He then knelt before the council and their dragons.  
"Dragons and Riders," Eragon began. "We are gathered here to welcome two new members of our order. Harry Murtaghsson and Colaen. You are now bonded for life. You are now guardians of peace, balance, and justice. You are expected to act with dignity, honour, kindness, humility and uphold the standards of the order. Now please make the vows, if you are willing to follow these guide-lines."  
Harry then spoke, in the Ancient Language, the vows that Murtagh had taught him the night before.  
"I swear, to follow the laws of the order, to preform my duty to both it and the people. I swear to fight for peace, balance and justice. I swear to not use my powers for evil or to harm the innocent. This, I swear."  
"Then rise, Harry Murtaghsson and Colaen, as members of the order of the Dragon Riders."  
Harry rose to thunderous applause. He turned to see every Rider cheering for him, smiling widely. He could have sworn that he saw Brinla jumping up and down in excitement, while Hurzomna stood next to her, a large smile on his own, usually stoic face.  
Harry smiled. As he walked back down the isle with Colaen beside him, he saw several Riders waving at him. He felt many slapping him on the back in congratulations. He felt strange, yet amazing.  
Then, they all started chanting.  
"Deathsbane, Deathsbane, Deathsbane!"  
Harry smiled. This was very reminiscent of the Gryffindor table after his sorting, when the Weasley twins had chanted "We've got Potter!".  
But this time, the cheering was not because they were excited to have a celebrity among them. No, it was because of him, Harry.  
They accepted him. They wanted him.  
Harry did not know whether he wanted to laugh or cry.  
He had never, in his wildest dreams, thought that he could be accepted anywhere by anyone. But now, he not only had a family who accepted him, but an entire community. Yes, it was only around a hundred, half of them being dragons, but it was still more than he had ever expected.  
A warm feeling filled his chest. Colaen bounced happily by his side.  
Finally, he felt like he really belonged somewhere.  
  
After the ceremony, they had a grand breakfast in celebration. Harry entered the Dining Hall to see the grand food table covered in more food than ever. It caused Colaen, who had taken a perch on Harry's shoulders so that he was giving her a piggy-back, to flutter her little wings excitedly.  
Harry was a bit surprised at the extravagant display.  
He just stood there, only about a metre or so in the hall, for a long time. Then, Murtagh entered.  
Harry turned to his father.  
"What's this?" He asked, gesturing to the table full of food.  
"This?" Murtagh replied. "Do not worry, we do this for all new Riders."  
"But... But..." Harry spluttered, embarrassed. "You didn't have to do this. I would have been fine with just the ceremony."  
"Sorry," Murtagh replied. "It is tradition, and Eragon and I thought that you would not wish to draw attention to yourself."  
"And this isn't drawing attention to me?" Harry retorted.  
Murtagh sighed.  
"I am sorry that this makes you feel uncomfortable, but the Riders might have become suspicious if there wasn't a celebratory breakfast. If attention must be drawn to you, then at least it is in a more positive light."  
Harry muttered under his breath, but did not argue. Fortunately, his mood was brightened considerably by Colaen sending him images of the food and feelings of desire.  
Harry chuckled.  
[Okay, I get it, you're hungry. Come on, lets go get some food.]  
Colaen jumped up and down excitedly on his shoulders. Harry could not help but smile.  
By this time he had practically memorized the list that Murtagh had given him of recommended foods complete with exact quantities, so he had no trouble arranging his plate. However, he also added some small pieces of meat for Colaen. As they walked to his usual table, Colaen kept jumping up and down, flapping her little wings. Though this caused Harry to have some trouble with balancing the plate, he still could not help the joy that was leaking through their bond. Thankfully, he was soon sitting at his table, Brinla and Hurzomna opposite him. Colaen jumped off of his shoulders and sat in his lap.  
He looked up when he heard Brinla chuckling.  
"What?" He asked.  
"Oh, nothing." Brinla replied. "It is just, I do not think I have ever seen you this happy."  
"Oh." Harry replied.  
He began handing Colaen pieces of meat, which were quickly consumed by the little dragon.  
"It's just... Since Colaen hatched, it seems as if everything has changed, you know?"  
His two friends nodded, Brinla with her usual wide smile and Hurzomna with his lips turned slightly upward.  
"Yes I remember when Arnamuith hatched for me. It was an incredible feeling."  
Harry smiled and looked down at his dragon.  
"She's just so adorable. Are all dragons like this?"  
Brinla laughed. Hurzomna grinned.  
"Honestly, with how you are acting, one would think you had never seen a baby dragon before."  
Harry chuckled.  
"I actually have. In my first year, my friend Hagrid hatched a dragon in his wooden hut. I'm not sure if he wanted it as a pet or wanted to adopt it as his own child."  
Brinla rose an eyebrow.  
"I remember you mentioning that dragons from where you come from are not as intelligent as Alagaësian."  
"Yeah." Harry replied. "They are very wild and dangerous."  
"And so why did your friend believe it was wise to keep one in a wooden hut?" Hurzomna asked.  
Harry shrugged.  
"Hagrid isn't very good at determining what is and what isn't dangerous. It's not that he's stupid or anything, it's just that he loves creatures too much."  
Harry chuckled.  
"He actually gave Norbert, the dragon, a teddy bear and always talked to him like you would a small child. He even went as far as calling himself Mummy."  
Both his friends chuckled.  
"And what happened?" Brinla asked.  
Harry grinned.  
"Well, Ron was bitten by Norbert and spent some time in the hospital wing, while Hermione and I met friends of Ron's brother Charley, who works with dragons, and they took Norbert to live where he could be properly taken care of."  
Harry smiled wistfully.  
"Malfoy, the Pratt I was telling you about, tried getting us all in trouble, but ended up getting himself in trouble in the process."  
"And, did you get in trouble?" Hurzomna asked.  
"Oh, yeah." Harry replied. "The three of us, along with another boy from my year who was caught trying to help us, ended up getting sent on a detention with Hagrid into the forbidden forest..."  
"What?" Brinla asked incredulously. "Did you not tell us that this forest was inhabited by dangerous creatures?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"Yeah, don't worry none of us were hurt. Though I did catch the professor who ended up having Voldemort on the back of his head drinking unicorn blood."  
The memory of that incident coursed Harry's stomach to turn uneasily. Thankfully, Colaen was quick to send him feelings of comfort.  
Brinla frowned and Hurzomna actually rolled his eyes.  
"Only you could speak so casually of such things." He muttered.  
Harry finished feeding Colaen the pieces of meat and began to eat his own breakfast.  
"Yeah, well, everything turned out okay." He said.  
His two friends were quiet for some time.  
"So," Brinla began. "What do you have planned for today?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"The usual I guess."  
"Actually," Brinla began. "We all have the day off. We are allowed to do whatever we want, as we usually do on the day of greeting a new dragon and their rider."  
"Oh." Harry replied. "Well, I don't know then."  
"Usually, a new Rider would use this day to get to know their dragon." Hurzomna said.  
Harry smiled.  
"Okay then."  
Colaen sent him feelings of excitement. She fidgeted in his lap.  
Harry smiled.  
  
Once breakfast was finished, the Riders scattered around the academy, sitting and chatting in the fields, sitting in the library, and in various other places. Harry was sitting under a tree, Colaen leaning against his side, one of his school books in his lap. He had been so busy the past few weeks, that he had had hardly any time to do homework. That and Eragon was frequently borrowing his books to see what could be used by the Riders. Harry did not mind, as it felt nice to help.  
He was currently going through his potions homework. Though it was hard, as his mind kept going back to the professor who taught the subject. More specifically, what he had learnt on his first night at the academy from his father concerning the old dungeon bat and his mother.  
Even after a few weeks, he was having trouble processing the information.  
Colaen sent him a feeling of questioning as his mind turned with the thought of the potion's master.  
[Oh, I'm just thinking about Snape.]  
He answered her unspoken question.  
[He's a teacher at my school, Hogwarts. He teaches potions and he's... Well, not exactly the nicest person ever.]  
Colaen sent him a feeling of concern.  
[Yeah, he's been very, very mean to me.]  
Harry replied.  
He then frowned.  
[Though now I can kind of understand. I mean, from what I've learnt, my dad was a real git to him when they were at school together, and yet my mum was pretty much his only friend, or at least that's what my father told me.]  
Colaen did her version of a nod.  
Harry had already explained to her his particular family situation. While she had been at first confused that her Rider had had three parents, it did not take her long to understand that one of his fathers was his parent through adoption, so that his true identity was hidden.  
[Anyway,]  
Harry continued.  
[Apparently, the harassment eventually led to Snape making a mistake which led to the end of the friendship between him and my mum.]  
Harry looked down.  
[Honestly, after hearing all this, I feel kind of sorry for Snape.]  
And indeed he did. He could greatly empathize with Snape, as he had had a very similar life thanks to his relatives, constantly being bullied and having little to no friends. The only differences were that Harry had been lucky and was saved from his situation, while Snape was not, and that he was able to let go of his past, while it appeared Snape could not.  
When Harry seriously thought about it, he felt that he could have easily been on the path to becoming Snape, if not for his friends and his patchwork family.  
He greatly wished to learn more about Snape, to better understand him.  
[What do you think Colaen?]  
He asked his dragon.  
[Should I try to make peace with Snape?]  
Colaen sent him feelings of anger towards the potions professor. But then, she sent him feelings of remorse.  
[Yeah, I know,]  
Harry replied.  
[He's done some pretty bad stuff, to both me and other students. He's Neville's worst fear, for Merlin's sake.]  
He then sighed.  
[But he, too, is suffering from similar wounds to me, and he doesn't have anyone to help him.]  
Harry looked off into the distance.  
[Maybe I should burry the hatchet. I mean, while he was bullied when he was a kid, he is only continuing the circle now. Maybe... Maybe I should end the circle.]  
Harry nodded.  
[Yeah, I'll give it a shot. I mean, I do kind of owe him for saving my life.]  
Harry sighed.  
[And yeah, I kind of didn't help much by openly disrespecting him in his own class. But I mean, hello, he did ask me questions I had no hope of answering.]  
Colaen sent him feelings of amusement and Harry chuckled.  
[I'll extend the olive branch, it will be up to him whether or not he takes it.]  
Colaen jumped up and down in happiness. Harry smiled.  
He was then broken out of his thoughts by a chuckle.  
Both dragon and Rider looked up to see Murtagh walking towards them. Harry instantly put the book down.  
"Hi." He said.  
Murtagh reached them and sat beside Harry.  
"Good afternoon." He replied. "How has your day been?"  
"Great." Harry replied. "While I do love learning how to use a sword and magic, it's nice to just relax sometimes."  
Murtagh smiled and lent against the tree.  
"I agree."  
They sat in silence for a long time. Finally, Murtagh continued.  
"I have been meaning to discuss some things with you."  
"Oh?" Harry asked.  
"Yes." Murtagh replied. "As you have most likely figured out, things have changed now that you are a rider. Now, both Eragon and I feel that it would be better for you to begin training with the other Riders."  
"Oh." Harry replied.  
"You do not have to begin right away." Murtagh said quickly. "Usually we wait a month or two, for the dragon to become big enough for their own training, before the Rider begins training. That, and your magic needs time to adjust."  
Harry nodded.  
"Though, there are some differences in your circumstance." Murtagh continued. "You have been living here for a few weeks now, which has given at least some of the Riders and dragons time to get to know you."  
Harry scoffed in amusement.  
"And they have given me a nickname."  
Though, as he thought about it, while he did stick mostly to Brinla and Hurzomna, many of the Riders had altered their view of him. While when he had first arrived the vast majority of them had regarded him with suspicion and even a little fear, they now treated him with respect and even kindness. Even the few dwarfs, who had been the most hostile towards him due to him being the son of the man who had killed their king during the war, were now treating him with tolerance.  
"Yes, well," Murtagh continued. "After much discussion, Eragon and I have agreed to offer for you to at least observe the Riders magic lessons with Eragon, while you still may continue your sword training with me."  
Harry thought about this.  
"Also," Murtagh continued. "There is the matter of Hogwarts."  
"Yeah," Harry said. "I've been thinking about it. I still want to go to Hogwarts. I mean, it's where Mum and Dad used to go, and I still have friends there, and I still kind of like it, despite the previous three years troubles."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"I understand. We shall have to discuss your Rider training further with Eragon."  
Harry nodded.  
"Okay."  
Murtagh's eyes then flickered with concern.  
"There was another matter I had to discuss with you."  
"Yes?" Harry prompted.  
Murtagh sucked in a deep breathe.  
"Do you remember, the morning after Eragon and I healed you, that I told you there was something which required more research?"  
"Yes, and?" Harry asked.  
"Well," Murtagh continued. "After much thought and discussion, Eragon and I have decided that, if you wish, we could ask the Eldunari to examine it."  
"Oh, okay." Harry replied. "But, what exactly would they be examining?"  
Murtagh sighed.  
"When Eragon and I were healing you, I found something, lodged in your scar. It was... Well, it was dark, and it was leaching off of your energy."  
Harry frowned.  
"In my scar? Do you think it's something from when Voldemort tried to kill me?"  
"Probably." Murtagh replied.  
"When can we do this?" Harry asked.  
"We could do this tonight, if you wish." Murtagh replied.  
Harry thought about it. If it was leaching off of his energy, and if Murtagh was worried about it, then he wanted it gone.  
[What do you think Colaen?]  
He asked.  
Colaen sent him an image of his scar, and shuddered. It would appear that, due to their bond, she could sense the darkness within him.  
"Okay." Harry replied. "Lets do it."  
"Right." Murtagh replied, getting up. "I shall go and inform Eragon."  
  
Later that night, Murtagh met Eragon, Harry and Colaen outside of the building in which they kept the Eldunari. He could not help but let a little smile slip when he saw the small dragon bouncing on his son's shoulders. It warmed his heart to know that, unlike himself and Thorn, his son would be able to establish his connection to his dragon naturally without being forced into it by a mad tyrant.  
"So, are you ready?" Murtagh asked.  
Harry smiled nervously.  
"Yeah. Let's get this over with. I want to find out what this thing in my head is."  
Both him and Eragon turned and used their magic to open the door. The three Riders and small dragon walked into the chamber. Enchanted lights appeared in the corners of the room. Harry looked around in amazement to see the many Eldunari, laid out on separate pedestals.  
"Wow." He simply said.  
Murtagh smiled.  
"Yes, it is quite an impressive sight."  
Eragon cleared his throat.  
"Shall we begin?"  
Father and son nodded.  
Slowly, Murtagh lowed his mental barriers. Instantly, he could hear the whispering of over a hundred voices, of dragons both young and old. It was almost overwhelming, but thankfully Eragon called them to order.  
[Greetings.]  
He began.  
[We have come to seek your assistance.]  
Murtagh then continued.  
[We have come here with my son, who has recently become a Rider, and who is also a wizard from a distant land.]  
The Eldunari began to whisper to themselves. From what he could gather, they had knowledge of the outside world and their magic-users.  
[We have discovered a foreign darkness within him.]  
Eragon continued.  
[This darkness is leaching off of his energy, and we do not know what it is, nor how to remove it.]  
The Eldunari continued to whisper to themselves. Then, Murtagh could sense them beginning to examine Harry.  
[Can... Can you sense anything?]  
Harry asked.  
The Eldunari began to whisper, more loudly. Murtagh could hear them. They seemed angered, disgusted, concerned, fearful, and many other things. Harry could obviously sense the various emotions and his eyes nervously flicked to Murtagh. He sent his son a reassuring smile.  
"Don't worry." He whispered out loud to his son.  
Harry smiled weakly.  
Finally, a single voice rose above the rest and addressed them.  
[We have heard of such magic.]  
The Eldunari began.  
[It is dark, corrupt. A twisted form of your wizard magic.]  
[What is it?]  
Harry asked nervously.  
Murtagh could hear the Eldunari growling.  
[It is the broken shard of a corrupt soul. Judging by how frayed it is, this is not the first time the being has split their soul.]  
[Wait, wait...]  
Harry interrupted.  
[You are saying that... That it is a broken piece of soul?]  
He looked to Murtagh with wide eyes.  
[It's in my scar. You don't... You don't think that...?]  
[Yes.]  
The Eldunari replied.  
[The soul shard once belonged to the one you call Voldemort.]  
Murtagh could see Harry become very pale. The young man's hands began to shake. Murtagh could sense his mind disconnecting, obviously a result of his panicked state. Murtagh also disconnected and approached his son slowly and hesitantly.  
"Harry?" He asked, concerned.  
"There is a piece of Voldemort stuck in my forehead." Harry said in barely a whisper. "There has been, a piece of Voldemort, in my forehead for almost thirteen years."  
Suddenly, Harry collapsed to the ground, Colaen quickly jumping from his back to avoid being crushed. Harry drew his knees to his chest and began clawing desperately at his scar. Colaen attempted to comfort him by snuggling into his side, but even her efforts did nothing to help him.  
"Get it out! Get it out! Get it out!"  
Murtagh instantly fell to his knees and attempted to stop Harry's panicked state.  
"Harry! Harry! Look at me, look at me!"  
He grabbed hold of his son's wrists and pulled his hands away from his forehead. Harry had left scratch marks deep enough to draw blood, but that was not important at the moment. For now, he had to calm his son down.  
"Harry!"  
Emerald eyes met grey. Murtagh's heart clenched to see his son's eyes filled with tears. He had never seen Harry so full of fear, and it broke his heart to see him in such a state.  
"I want it out." Harry said in a terrified whisper. "I don't want any part of that... That monster in side of me. Please."  
Murtagh could feel his chest tighten and he instantly wrapped his son in his arms. He could feel his shoulder become wet with tears, but he did not care. Right now, he needed to make sure his son was safe.  
For a long time, they just sat there. Finally, Harry calmed down and sat up.  
"S-sorry." He stuttered. "I guess I... I just couldn't control..."  
"Don't feel sorry." Murtagh replied. "You should not feel sorry for being upset that a piece of the one who murdered your parents is in your forehead."  
Harry smiled.  
"I'm actually surprised Voldemort had a soul to begin with." He said, a small grin appearing on his tear-streaked face.  
They were broken out of their conversation by Eragon clearing his throat.  
"Are you alright?" He asked Harry.  
Shakily, Harry got up, Murtagh soon following him. Colaen jumped into Harry's arms.  
"Yeah, I guess." Harry replied.  
"Well," Eragon continued as they began to leave the chamber. "The Eldunari had more to say."  
"Such as?" Harry asked.  
Eragon sighed.  
"The soul shard has been in you for so long, that it has had time to take root."  
"Great." Harry muttered.  
Colaen nuzzled into him comfortingly.  
"Well, all this means is that it will be harder to get rid of it." Eragon continued. "We will have to dismantle the hold it has on you one thread at a time, and this may take a year at least."  
"Is there a quicker way?" Harry asked.  
Eragon sighed.  
"The shard could be destroyed, but that would also require destroying the vessel."  
"And that is not an option." Murtagh said immediately.  
Harry nodded.  
"Before, I might have been willing to do whatever it took to get rid of Voldemort. But now, I've got too much to live for." He said, smiling.  
Murtagh then remembered something that the Eldunari had said.  
"They mentioned that the shard was so frayed that it was likely that this was not the first time Voldemort had split his soul."  
Eragon stopped, horrified.  
"Why would anyone wish to split their soul so many times?"  
"To avoid death."  
The brothers turned to face Harry, who was looking at the ground, frowning.  
"What?" Murtagh asked.  
Harry looked up.  
"In both times that I have confronted Voldemort, he has wanted to rise to power. More than that, he had desired eternal life."  
His eyes then widened.  
"In my second year... The diary... The memory..."  
Harry's face went as pale as a sheet.  
"I think I've already destroyed one shard." He continued. "It's possible that Voldemort was splitting his soul as early as sixteen, and I'm beginning to think that his diary was his first vessel."  
The two brothers exchanged a look.  
"It could be possible." Murtagh agreed.  
"Is there any way to figure out how many soul shards there are?" Harry asked.  
"Possibly." Eragon replied. "This may take a great amount of magic. I may even have to ask Arya for some assistance..."  
Murtagh cleared his throat.  
"It is late. We should discuss this more in the morning."  
"Yes." Both Eragon and Harry replied in unison.  
The rest of the journey to the main building was in silence.  
  
Before Eragon parted with Harry and Murtagh for his own bedroom, he informed them that he would be getting in touch with Arya as soon as he could. Both Murtagh and Harry nodded.  
Murtagh could tell his son was exhausted from the night's events. Once they reached Harry's room, Murtagh followed his son inside and sat on Harry's bed.  
"Are you alright?" He asked as Harry got dressed for bed.  
"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry replied. "Still a bit shaken up, but I'm fine."  
Harry finished getting into his night-clothes and crawled into bed. Colaen quickly joined him.  
"If you need anything, my door is always open." Murtagh continued.  
"Okay." Harry replied, snuggling into his bed. Colaen snuggled into his arms.  
"Do not worry Harry. We shall deal with the shard inside of you head, and however many others that monster had created." He said. "I shall make sure that you do not have to face him ever again."  
Murtagh turned to see that his son was already asleep, holding his dragon like a child would hold their stuffed toy.  
Murtagh smiled. He got up from the bed and tucked his son in. After brushing a few loose strands of hair from the young Rider's forehead, he left the room.  
He knew what he had to do. No matter what, he would get rid of the soul shard and free his son from the monster who had tormented him for so long. No matter what it took, Voldemort would be no more.


	12. Returning to England

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, Murtagh, Thorn and Colaen go to England. Murtagh goes on a trip down memory lane.

Chapter 11:  
  
For the next few weeks, Harry adjusted to life as a Dragon Rider.  
Now, in the mornings after breakfast, he would go to the south training-yard and observe Eragon teaching the Riders magic, as both of the elder riders insisted that he should give his magic a few weeks to adjust. Colaen also joined him, as she was still too young to join the other dragons.  
The lessons themselves were quite interesting.  
Eragon would give all the Riders a lecture on a particular area of magic for the first half hour. Then, they would all split into different groups, depending on their skill level. Eragon informed Harry that, once he was ready to join them, he would be assessed to see which group he would fit in with. For now, Harry was content with just observing.  
After lunch, Murtagh would take over and teach the Riders non-magical combat. With this area of training at least, Harry was allowed to join in.  
After being assessed by both Eragon and Murtagh, he was found to be advanced for his age and species. This meant that he was placed in a group with five others. The only one who was also fourteen was an elf girl. The rest were three sixteen year old humans, including Brinla, and a male seventeen year old dwarf who would not meet Harry's eyes.  
Brinla explained that, while the the dwarf did not blame him for his father's crime of killing their king during the war, he still distrusted him on a matter of principle. Harry was fine with this, as long as the dwarf did not harass either him or his friends.  
Harry found it was fun to train with people his own age. While he had enjoyed the one-on-one attention from his father, it still felt nice to not be isolated. And also, now that Murtagh was preoccupied with around fifty others, he did not have enough time to be a complete hover-parent.  
  
A few days after he became a Rider, he sent his replies to his friends, reassuring them that he was alright and that they did not need to worry about him. He also apologized for causing such a panic, and explained (to Ron and Hermione) that he would tell them why he had left in such a way on the train to school.  
Before giving Hedwig the letters, he had stroked her feathers gently.  
"Now don't strain yourself." He said.  
Hedwig hooted and nuzzled his hand affectionately.  
Harry smiled.  
  
Harry had also learnt where the food was coming from.  
Apparently, at the beginning of each week, the Riders were randomly sorted into groups of around eight to wake up before sunrise to prepare the food. And not just breakfast, but lunch and dinner. According to Eragon, this was meant to build teamwork and teach them to be prepared to work hard in the earliest hours.  
Harry had at first been a little intimidated, as this was a bit much, even for him. But then Hurzomna had explained that they used a little bit of magic to slightly increase their stamina during the process. However, as Harry was not allowed to use magic yet, he was given the lighter tasks.  
Harry did not mind the cooking process. He found it quite interesting, since he was not using the modern appliances he was used to. He was used to cooking for a large amount of people, due to the Dursleys large intake of food.  
  
Sirius, Remus and Buckbeak quickly adjusted to life at the academy.  
The dragons quickly became used to the hippogriff, and found that they could communicate with him through images. They would play games with him, and even have flying contests.  
Sirius seemed to want to become the Peeves of the Riders academy. Thankfully, he had enough good sense not to become a menace. His pranks were enjoyed by all, and were very rarely embarrassing.  
One memorable prank was when, after learning of Murtagh's redphobia, the wizard decided to help the Rider. Only, he helped him by turning everything red thing Murtagh own into a rather... Interesting colour.  
Harry could not suppress his laugh when he saw Murtagh knocking on his door one day, asking for some clothes, as his entire wardrobe had been turned pink.  
Harry's clothes had of course been too small for him, but he used magic to adjust them.  
Murtagh hadn't been angry with Sirius, but he had still punished the wizard for the prank by making him collect dragon dung and turn it into fertilizer, as Eragon was hoping to start collecting magical plants.  
Remus was frequently in the library, most of the time with Eragon, discussing ways to adapt wizard magic for use without a wand for the Riders. They seemed to both agree that potions and herbology could definitely be done without a wand, and that charms and some defense could possibly be altered to be of use for the riders. The only area of magic they seemed to have no success in was transfiguration.  
They got so lost in their discussions sometimes, that Sirius and Murtagh had to literally drag them to bed. However, one memorable morning they had been found, asleep, in the library, with their faces in open spell books and a very long list of spells trailing along the floor.  
  
Harry and Colaen had grown extremely close during this time. Many commented that they had never seen a dragon and Rider so close to one another. It got to the point that Eragon had to warn them of becoming too close, as there were many dangers with that happening.  
Colaen grew quickly, and she soon became too large for Harry to give her piggy-backs. She also now couldn't fit in Harry's bed. After a very long four-way argument with Thorn and Murtagh, the young Rider and Dragon agreed that Colaen had to begin sleeping in the dragon's den with the others. But this did not stop Harry from saying goodnight to Colaen in person and practically tucking her in her bed of straw. That is, until Colaen had asked him to stop, as it was a little embarrassing in front of the other dragons. She had even asked him to stop being such a Murtagh, (hover-parent).  
Despite this, they were still practically inseparable.  
  
Harry had, eventually, gotten over having a part of Voldemort in his forehead. He and Murtagh had begun to detach it.  
Apparently, it was severely attached to him. It would take a long time to sever the connection. For now, they could only weaken the bonds before breaking any of them.  
Everything seemed to be going well. However, soon it was two weeks before the beginning of the next school term at Hogwarts.  
Harry had decided he wanted to go back, as he still had friends back in England.  
After a lot of discussion, it was decided that Murtagh and Thorn would come with him and Colaen, so that they would be able to begin their Rider training.  
  
And so, on the 20th of August, Murtagh, Thorn, Harry and Colaen stood outside of the front doors of the Rider's academy. His broom had been attached to his trunk, which was placed under a feather-weight charm and tied by a harness to Thorn. Colaen, who was now the size of a Labrador, would also be attached via a harness to the older dragon. She was excited, as this would give her some experience of flying. It was tied in the spot just under her wing joints. She kept jumping up and down in excitement.  
Eragon, Saphira, Remus, Sirius, Hurzomna and Brinla were also there, saying goodbye.  
"Do you have everything?" Eragon asked.  
"Yes." Murtagh and Harry replied.  
Brinla embraced Harry.  
"Now, please try to stay out of trouble." She requested.  
Harry chuckled.  
"I'm pretty sure I can only keep that promise until Halloween." He replied. "Everything seems to happen on that day."  
Everyone chuckled.  
Harry walked over to Colaen. He adjusted the harness.  
[Ready?]  
[Yep.]  
Harry chuckled.  
She was quick to learn words, but she had also grown to speak less like the other dragons and more like Harry.  
[Well, do you think you could stop jumping around?]  
He asked.  
[I don't think Thorn appreciates it.]  
[I can't help it.]  
Colaen replied.  
[I'm going to be in the air.]  
Harry chuckled.  
[Well, can't argue with that. Flying is amazing.]  
Colaen was sending him overwhelming feelings of excitement.  
He turned to Murtagh.  
"Are you ready?" His father asked.  
"Yeah." Harry replied.  
The two adjusted the harness one final time. Then, Murtagh helped Harry onto Thorn's saddle before climbing on behind him.  
Their friends and family waved as the two dragons and two Riders flew into the sky.  
  
It took them around a week to fly back to England. For the majority of the journey, Harry and Murtagh rode on Thorn, with Harry's trunk containing both of their belongings inside, and Colaen, harnessed to the large dragon. Whenever they found any landmass they took a break. Hedwig was still in England, and Harry guessed that she would meet them there.  
Throughout the journey, Murtagh and Harry exchanged stories of the more pleasant variety, with some input from Thorn. A lot of the time they did a four-way mind-bond, so that they could communicate easier. Murtagh and Thorn were trying to improve Colaen's vocabulary, but she insisted upon speaking like Harry. Eventually they were resigned to the fact that she would be talking like a modern non-alaëgasian teenager. Harry didn't see any problem with it, but Murtagh explained that, if they were to go on any diplomatic missions, it would be a little hard to take a dragon that said "Don't" and "I'm", seriously, and they were only trying to ensure that they did not embarrass themselves. However, Harry assured them that, if the situation called for it, he would try to get Colaen to talk more old-fashioned.  
They also went over the Ancient Language. Partway through their journey, Murtagh declared that Harry was finally ready to begin using his magic again.  
Finally, around a week before the next term was to begin, they arrived in England.  
After much discussion, they all agreed to stay at the Leaky Cauldron until the first of September.  
With Thorn and Colaen camouflaged, and Murtagh dragging the trunk, they walked down the streets of London. Harry was leading the way to the wizarding pub. However, he was caught off-guard when Murtagh took an unexpected detour.  
"Hey, Father, where are you going?" He asked.  
Murtagh turned to face him.  
"I am sorry." He began. "It is just, I remember this street from the last time I was here."  
He sucked in a breath.  
"Just down this road is the larkpark where I met your mother. Could I please just... For a minute."  
"Okay." Harry replied.  
He followed his Father as the older man walked down a side-street to a small park. Murtagh's eyes were full of emotion and unshed tears as he walked down athe path to what seemed to be a random bench. He smiled as he stroked the back of the old weathered wood.  
"This was where we had our first conversation." He said nostalgically. "I cannot believe it is still here."  
Harry stood next to him in silence. Murtagh looked around the park and pointed to an area a few metres away.  
"And that," He began. "That is where I was when I first saw her."  
"Really?" Harry asked.  
Murtagh smiled.  
"She was fierce. Went up against a dozen death-eaters without hesitation."  
He smiled wistfully in remembrance.  
"As soon as I noticed she was in trouble, I jumped off of Thorn's back, still camouflaged, and fought every single one until we were the only ones standing. And instead of thanking me, you know what she did?"  
"What?"  
Murtagh grinned.  
"Told me off for killing them."  
Harry smiled.  
"The two of you must have had very different moral compasses."  
Murtagh chuckled.  
"A little. She believed that they should use more lethal methods against the Death Eaters, but she had been trained by Dumbledore to believe that killing was not the answer."  
Harry chuckled.  
"That sounds like him." He said.  
Murtagh then sighed.  
"One thing you must understand," He began. "It is one thing to discuss using lethal methods. It is an entirely different story to actually preform the deed."  
He looked down at his hands and clenched his fists.  
"My hands are so stained in blood, that they are dripping with red. I had never wanted to be a killer, but I was forced to do so for my survival. And then..."  
He shook his head and looked up at Harry.  
"I hope that your hands never become as stained as mine."  
Harry put a comforting hand on his Father's shoulder.  
The two just stood there in silence. Finally, Murtagh sighed and turned to him.  
"Thank you," He began. "Shall we go now?"  
Harry nodded.  
"Are you okay?"  
"Yes, I am fine." Murtagh replied.  
So the two left the park and continued their journey.  
  
Right before Harry reached the door of the Leaky Cauldron, he hurriedly tried to cover his forehead.  
"Harry, what are you doing?" Murtagh asked.  
"Trying to make sure I don't get recognised." He replied.  
"You do not have to be so over-dramatic about it." Murtagh said with a hint of amusement in his tone.  
Harry glared at him.  
"Okay, one, you have no right to talk to me about being over-dramatic. Two, you do not know these people. They see me, and I'll most likely get mobbed. And seeing as from what we have heard, Dumbledore is on the watch for me, I would rather not be recognised."  
Murtagh shook his head in amusement.  
"Are we going to enter, or are you going to spend the entire day playing with your hair?"  
"Okay, okay, fine." Harry said, drawing his hands away from his messy fringe. "But if I get mobbed, it's your fault."  
Murtagh chuckled as they walked in.  
As they walked through the pub, Harry kept his head down. Murtagh followed quietly behind him.  
It seemed pretty quiet in the pub, with only a few dozen patrons. Harry could hear some muttering about the Quidditch world cup. He supposed that it had already happened, and that it must have been good. To bad, he would have liked to see it.  
When they reached the bar, Harry called quietly out for Tom the bar-keep.  
"Tom."  
The old wizard jerked in surprise and turned to him.  
"Har..."  
"Shhh." Harry hushed quickly, his eyes darting around in panic. "Not so loud."  
The bar-keeper lent towards him and spoke in a quieter voice.  
"Mr Potter, I should have expected you."  
Harry raised an eyebrow.  
"Why?"  
Tom chuckled.  
"Your owl is in the same room you slept in last summer."  
He gave Harry a toothy grin.  
"Professor Dumbledore has been here more than once asking if I had seen you, because you weren't at home. You haven't blown up your aunt again, have you?"  
Harry chuckled.  
"No." He lent closer, a smirk on his face. "But my former Uncle did become a brilliant shade of purple."  
Tom laughed, but then his face scrunched up in confusion.  
"What do you mean your "former uncle"?"  
"Well, I have officially disowned the people I was forced to live with." Harry explained.  
Tom frowned.  
"So, where have you been?"  
Harry smirked.  
"Sorry, can't tell you."  
He then reached into his pocket and withdrew a small pouch of galleons.  
"And I would appreciate you not telling Dumbledore any of this."  
Tom nodded.  
"Oh, and also," Harry continued. "I would like to rent a room, the same as last year, I guess if Hedwig has spoken. But do you think you could add an extra bed? Oh, and don't tell Dumbledore about my friend either."  
Tom nodded and eagerly took the pouch.  
  
Five minutes later, father and son were in room eleven, sitting on two separate beds.  
"Well that was easy." Murtagh remarked.  
Harry shrugged.  
"Tom's a good man, but even the best people need persuasion when it comes to Dumbledore."  
Hedwig was perched on the younger man's shoulder, nuzzling her beak in his hair. Harry stroked her back affectionately.  
"Yeah, I missed you too." He said, looking at his owl.  
Murtagh smiled.  
"She is quite intelligent."  
"Yeah." Harry agreed.  
Murtagh stretched.  
"Well, it is getting late. Let us rest for now and do your school shopping tomorrow."  
"Okay." Harry replied.  
  
The next day, the two Riders took a trip out to Diagon Alley. Murtagh's eyes were darting around curiously as they walked down the cobblestone street towards Gringotts.  
"What, never seen Diagon alley before?" Harry asked.  
Murtagh shook his head.  
"Lily and I mostly stuck to the non-magical part of London."  
After they had collected some money from his vault, they proceeded to buy Harry's school supplies. They had received a list from Hedwig the night before when they had gone to their temporary living quarters.  
Harry was surprised to see that something called "dress robes" were on the list.  
"Maybe there is something special happening at Hogwarts this year." Murtagh suggested.  
Harry groaned.  
"As long as it's not life-threatening."  
"Harry, for you, leaving your bed is life-threatening."  
Harry rolled his eyes, but with a grin on his face.  
"I can't help it if trouble likes me."  
Regardless, Harry still went to Madam Malkin's and went through the long and agonizing process of being fitted for dress robes. He eventually decided on a set of deep red. Even when he was in his wizard robes, he wanted to represent his dragon. Even if it freaked his Father out.  
By the end of the day, they were sitting outside of Florean Fortescue's with a bowl of ice-cream each. Murtagh had decided to let him have some as a treat, considering that he had been sticking to his diet and not trying to eat less than he was supposed to.  
Harry had purchased a copy of the daily prophet, and was currently reading it to see if there was anything about the Quidditch World Cup. He wanted to see what happened.  
However, the article that he did find was not about what happened during the Quidditch World Cup, and rather what happened after it.  
"Errr, Father?"  
Murtagh looked up from his now empty bowl.  
"Yes, is something wrong?"  
Harry just handed him the newspaper.  
Murtagh's brows scrunched up in concern.  
"Death-eater activity, after all these years? What could be the cause of this?"  
Harry frowned.  
"The paper says that they were just messing around or something, to scare the large amount of magicals there. But I doubt it."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"Especially with this."  
He pointed to a picture of a skull with a snake coming out of its mouth.  
"What's that anyway?" Harry asked.  
"It was known as the Dark Mark." Murtagh replied. "I saw it once or twice. The death-eaters left it in places where one or more of their victims had died."  
Harry shuddered.  
"But no one died at the Quidditch World Cup, right?"  
Murtagh shook his head.  
"They would have mentioned it. No, it was probably meant to install fear in people."  
"Well, I think they succeeded in that." Harry replied.  
"But what could possibly be the cause of this?" Murtagh asked again under his breath.  
Harry shifted uncomfortably.  
"I a... Meant to tell you something, but I didn't want to worry you."  
Murtagh narrowed his eyes.  
"Harry, if it is something that you find concerning..."  
"It's nothing." Harry continued. "I didn't want to tell you because you seemed stressed enough about returning to England."  
"What is it?" Murtagh asked.  
"Well, errr..." Harry began. "A few nights ago I had a dream. It was about this old man, and an old house. And in this house was Wormtail and Voldemort..."  
"What?" Murtagh asked in shock.  
"But Voldemort was weak or something, he didn't have a proper body... But the old man saw him for a few seconds before Voldemort killed him and..."  
"Harry," Murtagh began. "This is serious, what were Voldemort and Wormtail discussing?"  
Harry looked down.  
"Something about a witch and the Quidditch World Cup and... Me. But it was just a dream."  
Murtagh frowned.  
"Did it feel like a dream?"  
Harry looked down and shook his head.  
"No."  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
"I'm sorry," Harry replied. "It's just, you were already stressed out enough and I didn't want to add to it and..."  
Murtagh cut him off by putting a hand under his chin and pushing his head up to look into his eyes.  
"Harry, no matter how I am feeling, I still wish for you to tell me important things like this."  
"Sorry." Harry muttered.  
Murtagh sighed.  
"Just please, do not keep something like this from me. I do not care if I am pulling my hair out in worry, I still want and need to hear about things which concern you."  
"Okay." Harry replied.  
"Well, this dream now changes things." Murtagh continued. "Maybe the death-eaters were operating under Voldemort."  
Harry shook his head.  
"I don't think so. According to the paper, they all vanished when the dark mark appeared. Wouldn't this have made them more excited?"  
"Possibly." Murtagh replied. "Maybe only the one who cast the dark mark was working under Voldemort."  
"And the death-eaters freaked out." Harry said. "I mean, from what I heard the second Voldemort fell they all started yelling imperious and throwing money at politicians, renouncing their loyalty to Voldemort."  
"And the appearance of the dark mark caused them to fear that their old master was gaining power." Murtagh finished. "Which would of course be bad for them, as they had renounced him and hid while he was a wraith barely clinging to life."  
Harry sighed and rubbed his temples.  
"So much for a quiet year."  
Murtagh placed a hand on his shoulder.  
"Do not worry, you do not have to rely on yourself or your friends any more." He said comfortingly. "You now have me, Thorn and Colaen."  
[I'm not going to let any dark wizards hurt my Rider.]  
Colaen added.  
Harry chuckled.  
[And I'm not going to let any dark wizards hurt my dragon.]  
"Thanks." Harry said, smiling.  
  
On the night of August 31st, Murtagh and Harry sat in their room, going over the plan one more time.  
"Now, do you remember the plan?" Murtagh asked.  
Harry nodded.  
"You will follow the train on Thorn with Colaen harnessed to him again."  
[Hopefully she will not jump around so much again.]  
Thorn added.  
"And then the three of you will set up camp in the forbidden forest." Harry continued. "Are you perfectly sure it's safe? I mean, there are centaurs and giant spiders and..."  
"Do not worry." Murtagh interrupted. "I know how to take care of myself, and Thorn can help until Colaen is strong enough to take care of herself."  
Harry nodded.  
"Do you have everything?" Murtagh asked.  
"Yes," Harry replied. "Books, robes, broom, cauldron, weapons."  
"And about the weapons..." Murtagh continued.  
"I will camouflage them so that no one sees that I'm carrying around sharp objects." Harry replied.  
Murtagh nodded.  
"And your cloak..."  
"In my pocket." Harry replied.  
"Good." Murtagh replied.  
There was a long tense silence.  
"Father, are you okay?" Harry asked.  
"What?"  
"It's just, you seem tense."  
"I am fine." Murtagh replied.  
Harry frowned.  
"You sure? You just seem stressed."  
Murtagh sighed.  
"I suppose I am only concerned for you returning to Hogwarts."  
"I'll be fine." Harry replied. "I've got you, and Colaen and Thorn."  
Murtagh sighed.  
"I am aware, but still..."  
Harry put a hand on his shoulder.  
"Do not worry, I will be fine."  
Murtagh smiled.  
"Alright."  
He then remembered something.  
"Oh, and there is something else."  
He pulled out a small stone from his pocket.  
"Do you remember what the Eldunari told us about the shard of Voldemort's soul in your forehead?"  
Harry frowned.  
"They said that, judging by how frayed it was, it seemed that Voldemort split his soul several times."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"After examining the piece in you, I used the energy to enchant this rock."  
He held it up so Harry could see it.  
"It will become warmer when it is close to a shard."  
Harry grinned.  
"So, it's a Voldemort tracker?"  
Murtagh nodded.  
"I had to calibrate it so it did not pick up the shard inside of you, but I believe it is working."  
"How do you know this?" Harry asked.  
Murtagh frowned.  
"Ever since entering the country it has been warm."  
Harry frowned.  
"How many do you think he made?"  
Murtagh shook his head.  
"I do not know. Sirius, Remus and I have discussed magical numbers in the wizarding world. I doubt he split it too much, as even the soul has limits. The highest magical number that I believe it could be is twelve."  
Harry shuddered.  
"Oh I hope he hasn't split his soul twelve times."  
Murtagh shook his head.  
"I am afraid that the only way we will be able to find out is when the stone goes cold and we are able to permanently kill Voldemort. But the next magical number lower than that is nine, then seven, then three."  
Harry frowned.  
"I doubt he stopped at just three. That bastard is so paranoid, I bet he did do it seven, nine or even twelve times."  
Murtagh sighed and shook his head.  
"You should get some sleep, it is late and you have a big day tomorrow."  
"Okay." Harry replied, getting into bed. "Night."  
"Good night."  
  
Hours later, Murtagh sat on his bed, watching his son sleep. He looked so peaceful, free of the worries of the waking world.  
As Murtagh examined him, he realized that Harry's body had changed slightly. He was no longer as thin and fragile looking. Weeks of training had improved his muscles, giving him a lean build. He was still skinnier than Murtagh would have liked, but at least he had gotten some fat on his bones.  
Murtagh sighed.  
Ever since returning to England, the old feelings of regret had resurfaced. He had finally fulfilled the urges that had been nagging at him for fourteen years, but alas it was too late.  
[It is not too late.]  
Thorn argued.  
Murtagh shook his head.  
[You are right, it is not too late.]  
Murtagh looked at his son, a small smile on his face.  
It was not too late. He was here, now. Though nothing could change the years they never had, he could still be here now, for his son. Now, he would do everything in his power to ensure that his child was safe, and that the woman he had loved did not die in vain.


	13. Explanations and death tournaments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry returns to Hogwarts, explains and... Oh great, they're holding a death tournament this year.

Chapter 12:  
  
The next morning at around half past ten, Harry and Murtagh stood, facing the barrier between platforms nine and ten in King's Cross station. They were both camouflaged, so that no one could recognize them. Harry would lift his camouflage only when he spotted the Weasleys. He felt that he should do this at least, just to ensure that Mr and Mrs Weasley did not continue to worry about him. He still felt guilty for causing them and the rest of his friends such stress.  
Hedwig was perched on Harry's shoulder, finally free of her cage. The only reason why both she and Harry had put up with that thing was because of the Dursleys. But now, Harry felt that she should be free to fly about as she wished. Hedwig was pleased, and fluttering on her perch.  
He was also dragging his trunk behind him. Murtagh had already attached his luggage to Thorn, who was hiding with Colaen on a roof-top under camouflage.  
Murtagh turned to Harry.  
"Are you ready?"  
Harry smiled.  
"Yeah, are you?"  
Murtagh smiled slightly.  
"Yes."  
The two turned to the barrier and casually walked through to platform nine-and-three-quarters.  
  
The platform was just as Lily had described to him all those years ago. Murtagh could see it was crowded with magic-users of all ages, families large and small. Children ran among the adults, who were talking amongst one another. Students met with friends and began to talk about their summers. It was all overwhelming.  
Murtagh could not help the stabbing pain in his heart as he looked at the families. He could not stop his mind from wondering what could have been, if he had only stayed. Could he and Lily have made a life together? Could they and Harry have had such a family, together? Could they have even had more children? They could have been one of the families walking among these people. His life could have been so different, if only...  
"Father?"  
Murtagh was shaken out of his musings.  
"Ha, oh, yes?"  
Harry was staring at him.  
"You had that look again."  
"What look?"  
"The look you get when you think about something and get lost in your mind." Harry replied. "Are you okay?"  
"I..." Murtagh shook his head. "I am fine."  
Harry eyed him suspiciously, but did not comment.  
"Well, umm, I think I just spotted the Weasleys."  
Murtagh followed where Harry was pointing to find a large group of red-heads, excluding one girl with bushy brown hair.  
"I better go check on them and get Mrs Weasley's angry tangent over with."  
Murtagh grinned.  
"She cannot be that bad."  
Harry rolled his eyes and smiled.  
"Oh, she is. She's more of a hover-parent than you."  
"I am not..." Murtagh began, but decided to not continue the same argument.  
He looked around.  
"Well, I suppose we shall see you at Hogwarts."  
Harry smiled, though the expression did not reach his eyes. Murtagh guessed he felt the same as he did. Though this was not a goodbye, it felt too much like it.  
"Yeah, try not to get lost, or worse, attacked by a tree."  
Murtagh chuckled.  
"We shall be careful. And the same goes for you."  
"I'm only going on the train." Harry protested. "What's the worst that could happen?"  
Murtagh raised an eyebrow.  
"Did you not faint the last time you went to school on the train?"  
Harry rolled his eyes.  
"That's only because the Ministry thought it would be a good idea for dementors to go and guard the school."  
Murtagh shook his head.  
"It is a miracle that this country is still standing with such a poor excuse of a government."  
Harry chuckled.  
"Yeah, I just hope none of the students now need therapy after last year, mainly because I don't know if the wizarding world has therapists."  
They both chuckled, but then fell silent.  
"Well, I guess I'll see you later." Harry said.  
Murtagh wrapped his son in a quick embrace.  
"Stay safe." He said before letting him go.  
Harry grinned.  
"I make no promises."  
And with that, father and son parted. Murtagh watched as Harry approached the group of mostly red-heads, his camouflage falling. He was instantly embraced by the woman in the group, and Murtagh chuckled at his son's obvious embarrassment. He could sense that his son was safe with these people.  
  
As Harry walked away from his father, he let his camouflage fall. The Weasley's and Hermione did not spot him at first, making sure they had everything and saying their long goodbyes. Then he spoke up to get their attention.  
"Hi guys."  
Instantly, they all turned to face him. Harry shuffled uncomfortably, but kept a smile on his face.  
"How've you been?"  
Immediately, Mrs Weasley was upon him, practically crushing him in her embrace.  
"Oh, Harry," She began, relief on her face. However, her expression quickly melted to the look she most commonly wore when the twins had done something.  
"Where have you been? Do you know how worried we have been about you? When Dumbledore told us you were not at your Aunt's house, you could not imagine how worried I was. Why would you do something so..."  
"Molly, dear," Interrupted Mr Weasley. "Please, let him breathe."  
Mrs weasley let him go and Harry gasped in air. However, as soon as she was gone, the twins were upon him.  
"Good job." Fred said, clapping him on the back.  
"Nice trick," George continued.  
"What a show."  
"That is enough boys." Mrs Weasley said scoldingly. "Harry did something very idiotic and dangerous, and you should not be congratulating him."  
The twins grinned.  
"But Mum," Fred began.  
"He had good reason." George continued.  
"To want to do a runner."  
Mrs Weasley scowled.  
"No, what he did put him in danger. He should have stayed where he was safe."  
"Errr, Mrs Weasley," Harry began. "I am sorry to disappoint you, but if you wanted me to be safe, then the last place I should be is with the Dursleys."  
"What?" Mrs Weasley asked in surprise. "What do you mean? I know that you always seem to come back from the summer far too thin, but..."  
"I would hate to be so blunt," Harry began. "But there are many things you are not aware of. I'm not going to get into detail, but let's just say the Malfoy's treat their house-elves better than the Dursleys treated me."  
Everyone then gaped, and Mrs Weasley's eyes filled with tears.  
"Oh, Harry!"  
She then yet again wrapped him in her arms.  
"I know that you are not one to tell lies, so I know it must be... But, oh why didn't you tell us sooner?"  
"I... Didn't... Want to... Worry anyone." He spluttered. "Put me down please."  
Instantly, the older witch let him go. Mr Weasley put a hand on his shoulder.  
"I understand why you did not tell us," He began. "But I wish you had told us sooner. I might have some friends in the ministry who could..."  
Harry shook his head.  
"Thanks Mr Weasley, but I've found something."  
"But where...?" Mr Weasley began, but Harry shook his head.  
"Sorry, can't tell you, even if I wanted to." He said, grinning. "But don't worry, I'm perfectly safe."  
"Well, if you say so." Mrs Weasley replied reluctantly.  
"Umm, I think the train's about to leave." Ginny interrupted.  
"Oh, of course." Mrs Weasley replied. "Do you have everything?" She asked Harry and the five other students.  
They all nodded. She embraced all of them, lingering the longest on Harry.  
"Stay safe, okay?"  
Harry grinned.  
"I'm sorry Mrs Weasley, but I can't promise that."  
She shook her head and let him follow his friends onto the train.  
As the scarlet steam-engine departed from the station, Harry looked out the window to watch all the smiling families waving at their parting children. He could see Mr and Mrs weasley clearly near the front of the crowd. And as he looked near the back of the platform, he briefly saw his father drop his camouflage long enough to wave at him. Harry smiled. Though he knew that he would see his father and both their dragons in only a few hours, this still felt too much like a goodbye.  
As the train rounded the corner and the platform sped out of sight, he turned to his friends. He had feared that, once he admitted how the Dursleys had treated him, they would look at him with pity in their eyes. However, their expressions looked no different than they usually did.  
"Errr, so," He began awkwardly. "How was your summer?"  
The twins were still grinning at him, Ron and Ginny were smiling slightly, and only Hermione was frowning at him.  
"Well, it was fine," The bushy-haired witch began. "Excluding my inordinate amount of worry after hearing that you had up and disappeared."  
Harry winced.  
"Yeah, sorry about that."  
"Don't be." George began.  
"That was brilliant." Fred continued.  
"You should have seen Dumbledore's face."  
"It is not funny." Hermione snapped. "He could have been in serious danger."  
"He couldn't have been in any more danger than he would have been with the Dursleys." Ron argued. "And he was obviously safe, because he's still here."  
"And I actually think he looks better." Ginny added, observing him. "He doesn't look so skinny."  
Harry smiled.  
"Thanks, I've been working out, and I'm on a special diet."  
Hermione sighed, then her eyes filled with concern.  
"But oh Harry, why didn't you tell us how you were mistreated?" She asked. "My parents are muggles. They could have..."  
"What?" Harry asked sarcastically. "What could they have done?"  
Hermione frowned.  
"They could have contacted child-services and..."  
Harry scoffed.  
"Been there, tried that, sorry."  
He then put a hand on Hermione's shoulder.  
"I'm sorry to be so blunt, but I'm tired of hiding how I feel. All these years I didn't tell you because I didn't want to worry you. Well, that, and I was embarrassed about it."  
"Oh, Harry."  
And suddenly, he was wrapped up in Hermione's arms, his face berried in her bushy mane.  
"Hermione... Can't... Breathe..."  
She pulled away from him, blushing.  
"Sorry."  
"But seriously mate," Ron began. "You didn't have to feel embarrassed. It's not your fault you have bad relatives."  
Harry smiled.  
"Thanks, but please don't call them my relatives. I have officially disowned them."  
They all laughed. There was then a long silence. Fred, George and Ginny left for their own friends, leaving him with Ron and Hermione.  
"Come on," He began. "Let's find a compartment. I have something I want to tell you."  
They began walking down the corridor.  
"What is it?" Hermione asked. "Is it about where you were this summer?"  
Harry smiled.  
"Yes, and a lot, lot more."  
They finally found an empty compartment and sat down. Harry closed the door and locked it behind him. He then cast several spells for privacy in the Ancient Language. His two friends stared at him in surprise.  
"Errr, what was that?" Ron asked.  
Harry grinned.  
"Magic, just not the kind you're used to."  
"But," Hermione began. "You didn't use your wand."  
Harry continued to grin as he sat down.  
"That would be because I don't need a wand for this magic."  
He sucked in a breath. After much discussion with his father, Colaen and even a non-verbal conversation with Hedwig, he had decided to tell Ron and Hermione at least of his secret heritage. However, he was also going to make them take an oath in the Ancient Language, preventing them from revealing his secrets by any means. It was not that he didn't trust his friends, it was just that Murtagh did not want to take any risks, and Harry had agreed.  
"First, before I tell you anything," He began. "I'm going to need you to say this."  
He took out two pieces of parchment and handed them to his friends. They both read over the words and frowned.  
"Is this the same language you used for the magic?" Hermione asked.  
"Yep." Harry replied. "It's to make sure no one can find out through you. It's not that I don't trust you, it's just that there are some people who don't like taking risks."  
After a few minutes of helping his friends through the pronunciation, they were ready for him to tell his story.  
"So, where to begin?"  
"Maybe at the beginning." Ron suggested.  
Harry smiled.  
"Well, it began just after last term ended..."  
After about ten minutes, Harry was finished with his tale and his friends were staring at him in surprise.  
"Blimey." Ron began. "So that's where you've been all summer, with your long lost Dad on an island full of dragons that can talk in your mind?"  
"Yeah, basically." Harry replied.  
"And you are also now one of these "Dragon Riders"?" Hermione continued.  
"Yep." Harry replied.  
Ron sat back, shaking his head and grinning, and Hermione face-palmed.  
"Only you," She began. "Only you could possibly have such a life and think it was just an ordinary summer."  
Harry shrugged.  
"What can I say?"  
She looked up.  
"Well, I am happy for you, now that you have a proper family."  
Harry smiled.  
"Thanks."  
Ron grinned.  
"Don't tell Hagrid where this island is. He'll most likely go there for a holiday and never return."  
They all chuckled.  
"Are you going to tell Hagrid?" Hermione asked.  
Harry frowned.  
"I want to, believe me. It's just, you know how bad he is at keeping secrets."  
"But why don't you make him say whatever it is you made us say?" She asked.  
Harry sighed.  
"Because it would become obvious he was keeping a secret. If you were to try and mention it, even by accident, you would suddenly begin coughing at a loss for words. I think people would notice Hagrid doing something like that, and I don't want people, i.e. Dumbledore, finding out. I might tell him eventually, but..." He trailed off. There was a long awkward silence. Finally, Harry cleared his throat.  
"So, that was my summer, how was yours?"  
For the next half hour or so, Ron and Hermione described the events of the Quidditch world cup, Ron going into explicit detail about the two teams and especially the Bulgarian seeker, Viktor Krum. However, after about five minutes Hermione managed to get the story back on track, describing the Death-Eater's attack on the campsite and that, apparently, Ron's wand had been stolen by whoever had cast the Dark Mark. She then grew quite angered when describing how a ministry worker, Barty Crouch, had treated his house-elf.  
"It was honestly not fair." She said. "If she hadn't left the tent then she would have been either burnt or crushed!"  
It took both of them to calm her down. Though, Harry's head was spinning with thoughts. Before, he had always associated house-elves with Dobby. Now that he knew of the other kind of elves, and even called one a friend, he found himself more inclined to agree with Hermione's fury. He had to do some more research on this, as he wished to know the connection between the two kinds, and if they were of the same species or different.  
For the next few hours, the three of them talked about this and that, watching the country-side fly past them.  
  
Just before they reached Hogsmeade station, it began to rain. They, along with the rest of the students, left the train and entered the downpour. Hedwig was still perched on Harry's shoulder. He looked at her.  
"Well, do you want to come to the feast, or would you rather just go straight up to the owlery?" He asked.  
Hedwig hooted and seemed to think about it for a few seconds. Then, she spread her wings and after nipping his ear once, she took off. Harry chuckled.  
"Well, I guess that answers that question."  
As he, Ron and Hermione walked to the horseless carriages which took them up to the castle, he felt a familiar presence in his mind.  
[Harry?]  
[Hey Colaen, did you guys get here okay?]  
[Yeah, but Thorn kept complaining about me jumping around.]  
[And were you?]  
Colaen sent him a feeling of sheepishness.  
[Maybe. I couldn't help it. I was just so excited.]  
Harry chuckled. Ron and Hermione looked at him strangely.  
"Errr, mate, are you okay?" Ron asked.  
"Oh, err, yeah." Harry replied. "Colaen just came in range for a conversation through our bond. Though, I don't think my Father and Thorn are close enough to establish a four-way link."  
He voiced the question to Colaen.  
[Nope, sorry.]  
She replied.  
Hermione's face had brightened in curiosity.  
"Really?"  
Harry smiled.  
"Yeah, should I tell her you said hi?"  
"Yes, of course."  
"Me too." Ron added.  
[Ron and Hermione say hi.]  
[Tell them I said hi too.]  
Colaen replied.  
[Where are you now?]  
[Thorn's just flying over the border into the Forbidden Forest. I think he and Murtagh are looking for a safe place to camp.]  
[Tell them to avoid the centaurs and anywhere there are giant spider webs. Oh, and the tree that can attack you.]  
The bond was silent for a few seconds.  
[I think they've found something. Talk to you later?]  
[Yeah, after everyone's in bed. And maybe tomorrow after lessons are done I can introduce you to my friends here.]  
[Yay.]  
Harry chuckled again. He then turned his attention to Ron and Hermione.  
"How would you like to meet my dragon, my Father and his dragon tomorrow?" He asked.  
Ron smiled excitedly and Hermione's eyes lit up in the way they did when she had found a new book.  
"Oh, that will be incredible." She said.  
"Oh no." Ron muttered. "You do know she's going to attack all three of them with questions?"  
Harry chuckled.  
"Yeah, pretty much."  
  
The feast went on as usual. Harry had pulled out his diet-list from his robe pocket, as Hermione had insisted upon reading it to help with his meals. Harry had begun to protest, but Hermione could but quite hard to argue with. So he submitted to her help. He was actually slightly thankful, as the food at Hogwarts tended to be a little less fresh and a little more fattening than the food at the Rider's academy, which was purely organic.  
When the feast ended, Dumbledore stood for his customary speech.  
"Good Evening," He began. "Welcome to all the new students and welcome back to all our old faces. Now, before you all go to bed, I have a few announcements. First of all, I would like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, however, it seems that he..."  
Suddenly, there was a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning. Then, the large double-doors opened to reveal a middle aged man, with a wooden leg, walking-stick, scars all over his body and most strangely of all, an eye which swivelled around, very different to his other. He walked up to the staff table.  
"Sorry I'm late, got held up." He said in a gruff voice before taking the empty seat at the staff table.  
"Professor Moody." Dumbledore finished.  
There were mutters around the Great Hall.  
"I know him." Ron muttered. "That's mad-eye Moody. He used to be an Auror, and a very good one too."  
Dumbledore then called the Hall to silence.  
"Now, I would also like to announce that this year, there shall be no inter-house Quidditch tournament..."  
At this, the entire hall erupted in yells of shock and outrage. Dumbledore had to fire off several bangs from his wand to quiet them down.  
"As I was saying, there shall be no inter-house Quidditch tournament, as there shall be a special event occurring at Hogwarts this year."  
There were now some quiet mutters around the hall.  
"This year, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry shall be hosting the Triwizard tournament, an ancient tradition between three different schools which has not been held for a long time due to... Certain reasons. Three champions are chosen, one from each school, and these champions will compete in three tasks. Whomever shall win this tournament shall win a prize of 1000 galleons and eternal glory."  
There were now louder mutters around the hall.  
"Do you know anything about this tournament?" Ron asked Hermione.  
Hermione frowned.  
"Yes, I have read about it. It was held by three schools centuries ago, but was stopped due to its high death toll."  
At this, Harry felt like hitting his head against the table.  
"High death toll? Great, just great. At least I know how the universe is going to try to kill me this year." He muttered.  
"You don't know that this will affect you at all." Hermione replied reasonably.  
"And when has something that is dangerous been around me and not affected me?" He asked bitterly.  
Dumbledore yet again called the hall to silence.  
"To avoid risking these circumstances, there shall be an age limit. Only those who are of age will be able to participate, and they shall be chosen by an impartial judge."  
At this, there were many exclamations of outrage.  
"You see," Hermione said. "You won't be in danger because you are not of age to compete."  
"Don't count on that." Harry muttered.  
Dumbledore then called silence to the hall.  
"On the 30th of October representatives of the two other participating schools, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, shall be arriving with the heads of their respective schools. Then, on October 31st the champions shall be selected."  
At this, Harry did bang his head against the table, several times.  
"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asked in concern.  
"I am doomed." He groaned. "He just said that the champions will be selected on Halloween!"  
He then banged his head against the table again.  
"And"  
Bang.  
"everything"  
Bang.  
"happens"  
Bang.  
"On Halloween!"  
He banged his head on the table and rested it on the wooden surface. His forehead felt as if he would get a bruise, but he did not care. Both his friends put a hand on his shoulder.  
"It will be okay." Hermione comforted.  
"Yeah, you can get through anything." Ron agreed.  
He looked up, his lips twitching in a small smile.  
"Thanks." He replied.  
After Dumbledore's speech, they were dismissed to their common-rooms. However, before Harry could leave the hall, he was stopped by Professor McGonagall.  
"Mr Potter," She began. "The Headmaster wishes to see you in his office."  
Harry sighed, but complied.  
"Wait for me outside the portrait hole." He requested to his friends before following Professor McGonagall to Dumbledore's office.  
  
When they entered the office, Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, with his usual smile and twinkling eyes. He sat in the chair opposite the old wizard and Professor McGonagall went to stand on the other side, next to the Headmaster.  
"Harry, my dear boy..." He began.  
"I beg your pardon?" Harry interrupted. "But with all due respect, sir, I do not feel comfortable being addressed so casually by someone I barely know."  
Professor McGonagall frowned, but Dumbledore just continued smiling.  
"My apologies, Mr Potter. But I must say, you did give us quite the scare this summer."  
Harry raised an eyebrow.  
"Oh, I have heard. Sorry for causing such a panic."  
Dumbledore continued to smile.  
"It is alright. I am sure that come next summer, whatever grievances you have with your relatives will be settled and you will be able to..."  
"I am going to stop you there." Harry interrupted. "Correct me if I am wrong, but it seems as if you are referring to the Dursleys."  
"But of course I am." Dumbledore replied.  
"Well, I am afraid you are mistaken." Harry continued. "For I do not consider them my relatives."  
"But Mr Potter," Dumbledore insisted. "They are the family of your Mother's sister, your family, your blood..."  
"And I am going to stop you again." Harry interrupted. "For while I may have the great misfortune of sharing blood with two thirds of them, I do not, nor have I ever, considered them family."  
Dumbledore shook his head, the twinkle in his eyes dimming slightly.  
"But you must stay with them, it is the only place where you could possibly be safe."  
Harry scoffed.  
"Safe? If how they treated me was what you would call safe, I shudder to think what could have happened to me if I was not safe."  
Dumbledore frowned.  
"What could they have possibly done to you...?"  
Harry tapped his chin.  
"Well, let's see. Starved me, made me live in a cupboard under the stairs for ten years, constantly called me a freak and said that I was a waste of space and that I should have died in the car crash that killed my parents. Oh, yeah, did you know that before I learnt I was a wizard at the ripe old age of eleven, I believed that my parents were drunks who died in a car crash, as I was told by the Dursleys? And I was forced to do pretty much all of the housework from the age of five, cooking, cleaning, gardening, etc. And every time something went wrong, I was beaten, even when it wasn't my fault. And I'm not even talking about accidental magic. One time, Vernon beat me half to death because his favourite bakery had raised the price on his favourite bun. I was six at the time..."  
He had to suppress his smirk at Dumbledore's face. It had become extremely white, and the twinkle had completely disappeared from his eyes. Oh, this felt so good. While he had managed to let go of most of his negative feelings concerning the Dursleys, and had left them in the past, he still felt angry that Dumbledore had constantly subjected him to them. And it would appear that he was not alone.  
Professor McGonagall had gone from white, to green, to a brilliant shade of red.  
"That will be enough Mr Potter." Professor McGonagall said through gritted teeth. "You may go now. Albus, I must have a word with you, now."  
If it was even possible, Dumbledore had gone even paler. Harry got up from his chair and left the office. However, he did not descend the stairs and instead listened in to what Professor McGonagall had to say to the old fool.  
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore...!"  
Harry smirk. Oh, full name. Dumbledore was in for it now.  
"I told you, I told you! Didn't I say those people were the worst kind of muggles? Didn't I say that he should not be left in their care? But did you listen, no? No! Because you knew best! I remember when Lily was at school, and I had to comfort her because of something that her sister had said to her! That was the last place the boy should have gone, but of course you did not listen to me because of course you know best...!"  
"Minerva..."  
"Don't you Minerva me! I am personally ashamed that I did not notice the sinessigns of abuse before. Oh wait, I did, but every time I broached the subject with you, you brushed it off and told me not to worry, that he was safe with his relatives. You told us that he was living in luxury, that he was being treated with the love he deserved! Oh, I have half a mind to..."  
After that, she slipped into another language that Harry supposed was Gaelic. He decided to leave at that point.  
After leaving the spiral staircase, he rounded the corner and instead of going straight up to the common-room, he took his invisibility cloak out of his pocket and snuck out of the large front doors.  
  
Murtagh had found a relatively large clearing near the edge of the forest, but far enough to not be noticed. He put up privacy wards and erected a tent that he had purchased in Diagon Alley. Both he and Harry had been amazed to find that magical tents could be made to have the interior of a house, or even a mansion. However, he had settled on one that only had a small bedroom, a kitchen and dinning area, and a spare room where he stored all of his books. It wasn't that he did not like camping, it was just that if he was to live in this forest for the next several months, he would prefer to be a little more comfortable. Thorn and Colaen could do just fine in the open, but he would rather have a more private living area.  
Once the campsite had been set up, he lit a fire and sat down. Thorn and Colaen joined him and dried from the rain in front of the fire. He lent against his dragon, Colaen coming to lay her head in his lap. Together, the three waited for Harry.  
Eventually, after a little while, Colaen's head jerked up and she began to run around excitedly.  
[She says he is coming.]  
Thorn said.  
Murtagh chuckled at the younger dragon's antics. She seemed to have a limitless amount of energy.  
Soon, Harry stumbled through the trees into the clearing and took off his invisibility cloak. He had a smile on his face, as if something very amusing had just happened. However, to Murtagh's alarm, he also had a dark bruise on his forehead that seemed to be very fresh.  
As soon as Harry had entered the clearing, Colaen ran to greet him. He laughed and embraced her. Both walked over to Murtagh and Thorn. He sat and lent against the older dragon beside him.  
"Hey, I see you got here alright." Harry began.  
"Yes, the journey was fine." Murtagh replied.  
"Have you eaten?" Harry continued.  
"Yes." Murtagh replied. "Have you?"  
Harry grinned.  
"Yeah, Hermione insisted upon helping me. I guess it's good I have some help, because the food here isn't as healthy as the food at the academy."  
Murtagh smiled, but then his attention returned to the bruise on his son's forehead.  
"What happened?"  
"Hmm?" Harry asked.  
"There is a bruise on your forehead." Murtagh explained. "How did you hurt yourself?"  
"Oh." Harry replied, touching the bruise. "Don't worry, I got that from banging my head against the table."  
Murtagh frowned.  
"Why did you bang your head against the table?"  
Harry frowned.  
"Oh, no reason. Just that Dumbledore's had the brilliant idea to hold a death tournament this year."  
"What?" Murtagh asked in shock. "What do you mean a "death tournament"?"  
Harry explained that something called the Triwizard Tournament, was to be held at Hogwarts for the first time in over a century.  
"And they're choosing the champions on Halloween!" He finished. "Hermione and Ron think that I don't have anything to worry about, but come on. Everything happens on Halloween!"  
Murtagh sighed and rubbed his temples.  
"Yes, this is concerning. We mustn't rule out the possibility of something happening."  
"Thank you." Harry said triumphantly. "Someone is finally taking this seriously."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"We must be prepared for anything. Which means I expect you to be training every day."  
Harry nodded.  
"I was already doing that, but I'll work harder."  
Murtagh smiled.  
"Just try not to overwork yourself."  
"Okay." Harry replied.  
The two sat in silence. Then, Harry smirked.  
"Oh, I just remembered." He began. "Dumbledore called me into his office after the feast."  
Murtagh frowned.  
"What did he want?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"Wanted to know where I was this summer and why I did a runner. I didn't tell him where I went, but I did give him a lot of my reasons for running away."  
"And how did he take it?" Murtagh asked.  
Harry chuckled.  
"You should have seen it, he looked terrified. But that was nothing. Professor McGonagall was there too, and she heard everything. She didn't seem happy at all."  
Murtagh could not help the grin that appeared on his face. Lily had told him of her old Transfiguration Professor, and that she had quite the temper, especially when someone hurt one of the students under her care.  
"What happened?" He asked.  
Harry's grin widened.  
"She told me to leave the room, but I listened in. I knew that Dumbledore had really done it this time, because she started with his full name, and you know that nothing good comes when someone addresses you by your full name."  
Harry then explained, in great detail, exactly what she had said, up to the language change.  
"The rest was in what I think might have been Gaelic." He finished.  
"How would you know?" Murtagh asked.  
Harry shrugged.  
"She's Scottish, and seeing as the wizarding world seems to be behind the times, I guess that they would know old languages like that. And plus, I think I recognize some of the words, because I used to hide in the library from Dudley and I once stubbled upon something in Gaelic."  
Murtagh chuckled.  
"She must have been angry to revert to another language."  
They both laughed. Even Thorn and Colaen were shaking with laughter. He and Harry had identical grins on their faces.  
[The old man deserves it, after what he had done to your hatchling.]  
Thorn said.  
[Yes, I agree.]  
Murtagh replied.  
He looked at his son, sitting and smiling beside him. His heart felt as warm as the fire upon seeing his son in such joy.  
He thought about Dumbledore. It was because of that man that his son very rarely had cause to be joyful.  
As Headmaster, it was Dumbledore's duty to ensure the safety of the students under his care. However, he had not done so, leaving it up to Harry and his friends to fix the problems.  
Dumbledore had failed Hogwarts. He had failed Harry.  
But Murtagh would not. He would do whatever it took to ensure that Harry never had cause to not be full of joy.  
Dumbledore had failed to keep Harry safe, but he would not.


	14. Something old and something new

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Ron meet Murtagh. Also, Harry discovers puberty. Murtagh is so not prepared for this.

Chapter 13:  
  
Harry woke the next morning as he usually did, just as the sun was rising. He got up and stretched silently, not surprised to find that his four dorm-mates were still asleep. He quietly got dressed and left the dormitory. He had a headache, perhaps from him banging his head against the table so much the night before. But he did not care. He had suffered worse pain.  
He was hoping to be able to get some physical exercise in before breakfast. Though at the academy they usually ate breakfast before anything else, he believed that there would not be enough time between the first meal of the day and the first lesson for any physical exercise. He really had to figure out when he could continue with his extra training, however, he knew that he could not until he got his new class timetable that morning.  
He had just entered the common-room when he spotted someone sitting in one of the chairs near the fire. In the dying embers of the fire and the light of the sun just peaking through the window, he recognised Hermione, her face as usual, berried in a book.  
"Morning Hermione." He called.  
She ignored him.  
"Errr, Hermione?" He asked hesitantly.  
Suddenly, she did something that Harry never thought she would do. She threw the book against the wall.  
"What the..." He began in shock.  
He walked over to the book and picked it up. After reading the cover, he discovered that it was in fact, one of Hermione's favourite books, "Hogwarts, a history".  
"Okay, who are you, and what have you done with Hermione?" He asked, attempting to sound funny to hide his rising concern. Something really must have made her very angry.  
"Nowhere." She said through gritted teeth. "Nowhere in "Hogwarts, a history", does it say they use house-elves."  
"Oh." He said in realization. "You're still upset about that?"  
"Upset? Of course I'm upset. For the last three years we've been living off of slave labour." She retorted.  
Harry walked over and sat in the chair opposite her.  
"Hermione, look, I get where you're coming from. I mean, I know what it's like to be treated like a house-elf. And I really hate how Dobby was treated by the Malfoys and how Winky was treated by Crouch, but..."  
"Well, why aren't you taking this more seriously?" She demanded.  
Harry sighed.  
"I am. Before, I might not have. But after this summer, I have seen another kind of elf. I've trained with them, eaten with them, I have a friend who's one. I don't know the connection between the two kinds, if they're the same species or different. But that's the thing, isn't it? We don't know anything about house-elves. Do you think, that before you start some sort of house-elf revolution, you could at least try to do some more research into the matter? I mean, come on, you're the smartest person I know. Surely you of all people could unravel this mystery."  
"I..." Hermione began. She then sighed. "I'm sorry. I might have overreacted. It's just... When I was a kid I was always the outsider. No one wanted to play with the bookworm. They would always make fun of me for my love of reading. And I... I always felt different because of that. Well, that and because of the strange power I later learnt was magic. When I first learnt I was a witch... I thought that... That maybe I could finally belong somewhere."  
Harry smiled bitterly.  
"And let me guess, no such luck."  
She shook her head.  
"No, and worse. I was still an outsider, all because I didn't have any magical family."  
Harry lent forward and put a hand on her shoulder.  
"Yeah, I get it. All my life I was told I was a good-for-nothing freak, a waste of space. When I found out I was a wizard, I thought that I had finally found somewhere where I wasn't a freak. But then, it turns out I'm famous for doing something when I was a baby, and that these people changed their minds at the drop of a hat. So I was yet again an outsider, a waste of space..."  
"I don't think you're a waste of space." Hermione said quietly.  
Harry smiled.  
"Thanks."  
Hermione sighed.  
"I guess my point is that... That when I saw how Crouch treated Winky, and when I put it together with what I heard about Dobby, I guess I compared it to my situation and... Overreacted. I mean, not only do they discriminate against people with non-magical families, but they use innocent beings with thoughts and feelings like slaves."  
She sighed.  
"I mean, I expected it from people like the Malfoys, but Hogwarts?"  
Harry shook his head.  
"We've got to remember that not all of the founders, if any, were saints. I mean, giant freaking snake under the school anyone?"  
Hermione chuckled.  
"Yeah, I guess you have a point."  
Harry then got up.  
"Well, I was just leaving."  
He headed for the portrait hole, and Hermione followed him.  
"Where are you going so early?" She asked.  
"Out for some morning exercise." He replied. "Usually I do it after breakfast, but seeing as I now most likely have a full day of lessons, I'll have to organize something around my class schedule once I get it."  
"Can I watch?" She asked.  
Harry shrugged.  
"Sure, if you want to."  
They walked through the halls of Hogwarts in silence. Harry thought that the castle seemed nicer, without people running around and with the moving portraits just waking up. It almost seemed like he could imagine himself one thousand years ago, when the school was first founded.  
Soon, they reached the great double doors leading to the grounds, without bumping into anyone. They walked into the early morning light and Harry turned to his friend. Before he could speak, however, she gasped.  
"What?" He asked, concerned.  
"Harry, your head."  
She placed a hand on his forehead, right where he knew there was a bruise.  
"Oh that, it's nothing." He said, smiling.  
"Nothing! Harry, it's a bruise that takes up half of your forehead." She retorted.  
Harry shrugged.  
"Don't worry, I got that from banging my head against the table last night."  
Hermione frowned.  
"I knew you would get hurt from that." She said.  
"Don't worry, I'm fine." Harry replied.  
He began to walk to the lake, intending to run laps around it. Hermione followed.  
"You really shouldn't have done it, you could have suffered serious brain trauma."  
Harry chuckled.  
"Believe me, that was nothing. One time, Dudley tripped me and I fell down the stairs. Still not sure how I survived that one, or how the Dursleys didn't get into trouble for it. I guess they said it was an accident. At least they had the decency to put me in the hospital."  
Hermione frowned.  
"That is not comforting." She retorted.  
Harry shrugged as they reached the lake.  
"And in my defense, I had good reason to."  
"No, you didn't." Hermione retorted. "Honestly, you have nothing to worry about from this tournament."  
"That's what you think." Harry replied. "But even my Father agrees that I have to be careful with this."  
"Well, errr..." Hermione began, at a loss for words.  
"Well, I better get running." Harry said as he finished some quick stretches. He then began to take off his robe and dropped it on the ground.  
  
Harry had ran around the lake about five times. He could feel his heart beating and his breath was heavier. The sun was just above the horizon and he estimated that it was about 7:00 a.m. He decided to stop, as he didn't want to completely exhaust himself before the day began. He ran back to where Hermione was waiting with his discarded robe.  
"Wow, you were fast." She commented.  
"Thanks." Harry panted.  
He looked down at his robe, and decided that at that moment he was much too hot to wear it. In fact, he thought that, just for a few seconds, he should take his shirt off, just to cool down a little.  
"Harry, what are you doing?"  
Just as he had taken off his shirt, he looked around to see Hermione, her eyes wide and her face slightly pink.  
"Just taking my shirt off." He replied. "I'm a little hot. Hope you don't mind."  
"Well, I... Errr..." Hermione stuttered.  
He frowned. For some reason, Hermione was looking at him. More specifically, she was looking at his exposed body. He looked down at himself. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He had gained some muscle, so that his ribcage did not completely stick out. He didn't see anything wrong with his body, so he didn't know why she was looking at him like she was. And more importantly, why she seemed to be turning pink. And for some reason, at her attention he too was beginning to feel strange. He could feel his face becoming warmer, and there was a strange feeling in his chest and stomach.  
"Errr, sorry." He said awkwardly. "I'm going to put my shirt on now."  
As he put his shirt and robe back on, his mind whirled with confusion. What was that strange feeling he had had from Hermione staring at him? And why was she looking at him like that? They had been friends for almost three years, and she had never looked at him in such a way before. Perhaps he should ask his Father about it.  
  
Breakfast was thankfully the same as usual. That was, until Professor McGonagall came around and handed out the new timetables. He had had enough time to see that he had Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures before lunch and then Divination, followed by a two hour break before dinner, before Professor McGonagall spoke to him.  
"Mr Potter, before your first class, may I speak to you in my office?"  
Harry blinked in surprise.  
"Errr, okay." He said before getting up and following the Professor out of the Great Hall.  
As he sat opposite Professor McGonagall at her desk, he wondered what he could have possibly done so early in the year. He studied the Professor to see dark circles around her eyes and a sorrowful look on her face, mixed in with frustration and anger, which he hoped wasn't directed at him.  
He sat awkwardly, hoping that something would break the tension. Then, Professor McGonagall sighed.  
"Mr Potter," She began. "We must talk, about what was discussed last night with Professor Dumbledore."  
"Oh." Harry replied.  
"Yes," Professor McGonagall replied. "Is everything you said true, concerning your treatment from your guardians?"  
Harry scoffed.  
"Why would I lie about something like that?" He asked.  
Professor McGonagall sighed again.  
"I did not think you were. But I must know, why did you never tell us?"  
Harry raised an eyebrow.  
"Do you want me to answer honestly?" He asked.  
"Yes." Professor McGonagall replied.  
"Well," Harry began. "I mean no offence, but to be honest, I didn't tell anyone because I don't trust you."  
"What?" Professor McGonagall asked, obviously shocked.  
"To be frank," Harry elaborated. "I don't trust any form of authority figure. Anyone who has ever had any form of power over me has ended up abusing such power. I prefer to handle things on my own."  
Professor McGonagall sighed.  
"I am sorry it has come to this." She said.  
Harry shrugged.  
"I'm sorry too. I can tell that you do feel sorry, but..."  
Professor McGonagall shook her head.  
"I should have done something."  
Harry shrugged.  
"What could you have done? Nothing I tried worked. I told teachers at my old primary school, and that never worked. Everyone in the neighbourhood knew what I looked like compared to Dudley, and yet none of them found anything suspicious. The Dursleys got away with everything. I would walk into school with bruises, broken bones, hell, one time, I got put in hospital because I cracked my head open after Dudley tripped me down the stairs."  
Professor McGonagall was clenching her fist at this point, and her knuckles were pale.  
"I could have done more." She said. "I knew where you lived. I was there the night you were left with those people. I should have checked on you. But oh no, I was too trusting of Dumbledore's reassurances."  
Harry rolled his eyes.  
"Don't worry, I'm used to people worshipping Dumbledore like he's the second coming of Merlin."  
Professor McGonagall shook her head.  
"Well, you do not have to worry." She said. "I don't care what Dumbledore says, I will do all in my power to..."  
"You don't have to worry about me." Harry interrupted. "I've found my own way out."  
"You have?" Professor McGonagall asked. "But is it safe?"  
Harry smiled.  
"Even safer than Hogwarts. Though, I don't think that's much of an accomplishment, considering the past few years alone."  
Professor McGonagall snorted in amusement before becoming serious again.  
"But where is this place?"  
Harry shook his head.  
"Sorry, can't tell you." He replied. "It's confidential."  
Professor McGonagall sighed. She then grabbed a small piece of parchment and wrote on it before handing it to Harry.  
"Well then, I will not push the issue. You better get to your first class. Give this to Professor Sprout to explain your lateness."  
Harry got up to leave.  
"Thanks."  
Just before he turned to leave, Professor McGonagall stopped him.  
"And Mr Potter," She began. "I know that I have not been the most reliable professor in the past, but please, do not be afraid to come to me for help."  
Harry smiled.  
"I'll remember that, thanks."  
  
Once the first lesson ended, Harry Ron and Hermione were quick to go down to Hagrid's hut, so they could meet with their giant friend a little before the lesson began. This was mainly so Harry could get the inevitable interrogation out of the way.  
And as suspected, Hagrid was quick to question him.  
"Harry, where tha ruddy hell have yeh been!" He yelled, approaching the three teens.  
"Errr, hey Hagrid." Harry said.  
"Don' ya hey Hagrid me." Hagrid retorted. "Do ya know how worried I've been?"  
"Yeah, sorry about that." Harry said, raising his hands in surrender. "I really didn't mean to worry you or anyone in any way, really. But you know what they were like."  
Hagrid snorted.  
"I'm surprised yeh waited this long ta do it, actually." He replied. "Bu seriously, where were ya this summer?"  
Harry looked down.  
"I'm sorry Hagrid, I can't tell you that. It's really confidential. It's not that I don't trust you, you're actually one of the only people I do trust, it's just... Well... Errr..."  
"Ya don' have ta tell me I'm bad at keepin secrets." Hagrid interrupted.  
Harry blinked.  
"Really, I meant you no offence..."  
"Don' worry." Hagrid replied. "At least yeh bein honest an not tryin ta lie ta me out right."  
Harry smiled.  
"Thanks." He said in relief.  
Once the lesson began, Hagrid showed them some quite... Interesting creatures called Blast-ended-screwts. Harry had the horrifying thought that perhaps that summer Hagrid had entertained himself by crossbreeding magical creatures with non-magical creatures to make what he could only call stinging explosive demons. Everyone had to concentrate to make sure they didn't get hurt.  
Harry found this difficult, because he had a little red distraction called Colaen in the back of his mind. Because they were so close to the Forbidden Forest, Colaen had decided it would be a good idea to talk with him. Thankfully, she was still under camouflage, which meant no one could see her.  
It wasn't that he didn't love talking to Colaen. She was his partner in mind after all. It was just that he didn't appreciate her hyperactive commentary on what was happening with the other students. Especially when she had asked if Malfoy was the "Light-haired narcissistic daddy's boy" he had told her about. He had to hold back his laugh when she said his hair was so shiny she might become blind, and commented that it must have been somehow glued to his head to remain so stiff and smooth.  
By the end of it, he and the rest of the class were thankfully not hurt, and Harry was seriously wandering if his dragon had the draconian version of ADHD.  
  
That afternoon, after he had Divination, he had two hours until dinner. So he decided to go into the Forbidden Forest and meet with his Father to organize his new training schedule. He would take Ron and Hermione to meet his Father and their dragons after dinner.  
Hopefully, they would be able to get some sword-practice in.  
But there was also something he was dying to ask his Father. It was concerning what had happened that morning, when Hermione had seen him shirtless. He was still trying to work out why Hermione had been looking at him in that way. And why it made him feel so... He didn't know.  
He hoped that his Father would be able to tell him.  
  
Murtagh had been reading when a very excited Colaen had told him that Harry was approaching. Thorn had been attempting to educate the young dragon in the art of calmness, and not running off without informing anyone, all afternoon since she had run off, due to Harry being in close proximity to the Forbidden Forest.  
It was only about a minute before Harry and Colaen emerged from the trees into the clearing. The young man was smiling.  
"Hey, how was your day?" He asked as he approached Murtagh.  
Murtagh set down his book and stood up.  
"It was fine. Though, we must find a way to calm Colaen down."  
Harry scoffed.  
"Good luck with that."  
Murtagh chuckled.  
"So how was your day?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"Fine. I got my new timetable, so maybe we could start organizing my training around it, and then maybe we could do some more sword-training?"  
Murtagh nodded.  
"When shall we be meeting your friends?"  
"I was hoping after dinner tonight." Harry replied.  
Murtagh smiled.  
"That will be fine."  
Harry then looked to his feet and shuffled uncomfortably.  
"I errr... Wanted to talk to you about something."  
"Oh, what is it?" Murtagh asked. "What is wrong?"  
"Nothing's wrong." Harry said quickly. "It's just... Well... This morning, I went out to do some laps around the Black Lake and... And Hermione came along cause she was already up... And after I was hot so I took off my shirt for a few seconds but... But then Hermione was looking at me and... And I felt strange and... And I errr..."  
Murtagh blinked. So this was the problem? It seemed so strange in its normality, compared to what they usually had to deal with. He almost laughed at it, but he thought it would not be wise, considering Harry's current state.  
"Well, you have no need to feel so awkward about this." Murtagh said calmly. "The two of you have been friends for some time. Perhaps she is beginning to develop an attraction towards you, and you towards her."  
Harry blinked, his face a mask of confusion.  
"Errr... What?"  
Murtagh frowned. This was honestly not what he was expecting.  
"An attraction." He replied.  
"What do you mean an attraction?" Harry asked.  
Murtagh looked at him in surprise. Then, it suddenly dawned on him.  
[Thorn, I don't think he has ever been educated in areas of intimacy.]  
He said quickly to his dragon.  
[Well, perhaps you should educate him.]  
Thorn suggested.  
[What?]  
Murtagh said in surprise.  
Thorn chuckled through their bond.  
[Is it not your duty as his Father?]  
Murtagh sighed. This was going to be a long, awkward conversation.  
He cleared his throat.  
"Harry, come sit down. I think you and I need to have a long conversation."  
By the end of it, both of their faces were as red as their dragons. After a long awkward silence, Harry spoke.  
"So you umm... Think that I errr... Have those kind of errr... Feelings for... For Hermione?"  
"Possibly." Murtagh replied.  
"But... but she's my friend." Harry argued. "I can't... I can't imagine her that way."  
"That is how many relationships begin." Murtagh said slowly.  
Harry groaned.  
"Can we just start hitting each other with swords now. I don't want to think about anyone in that way right now."  
Murtagh chuckled.  
[Not a word of this to Eragon.]  
He said to Thorn.  
[I'll never hear the end of it.]  
  
That night at dinner, Harry found it very difficult to look at any girl, especially Hermione. Every time he tried, he kept remembering that awkward conversation he and his Father had had.  
"Mate, what's wrong?" Ron asked.  
Harry beckoned for his friend to come closer, so he could whisper in his ear.  
"I went to my Father this afternoon, and we had that talk."  
"Oh." Ron said, grinning. "Yeah, I know. It can be pretty strange at first. Don't worry, you'll get used to the idea."  
"I hope so." He muttered.  
Once the meal was finished and people started leaving, Harry Ron and Hermione walked to an empty classroom and went under the invisibility cloak. He really had to talk to his Father about how to do camouflage properly. Ron was getting far too tall, and he wasn't exactly scrawny either. And then there was Hermione, she was becoming more curvy and... No, stop, bad Harry.  
Once they were under the cloak, they somehow managed to leave the large doors onto the grounds. They walked quickly and quietly to the Forbidden Forest. Harry carefully led them to the campsite.  
As soon as he was in range, he heard Colaen excitedly greeting him.  
[Are they here?]  
She asked.  
Harry chuckled.  
[Yeah, they're here.]  
Harry turned to his friends.  
"Get ready, Colaen's coming."  
"When will she be here?" Hermione asked.  
"In five, four, three, two..."  
Instantly, the little red dragon burst through the trees. Harry took off the cloak and managed to put it in his pocket. Colaen quickly ran up to them. Harry smiled.  
"Ron, Hermione, I would like you to meet my dragon, Colaen."  
"Bloody hell." Ron breathed.  
Hermione seemed speechless.  
[Can I talk to them?]  
Colaen asked.  
[Let me just ask them.]  
Harry replied. He turned to his friends.  
"Is it okay if Colaen talks to you?"  
"Yeah, sure." Hermione replied, dazed.  
Ron only nodded. Harry began to make a connection between Ron, Hermione, Colaen and himself.  
[Errr, hello?]  
Hermione asked hesitantly.  
[Hey.]  
Colaen replied.  
Instantly, Hermione smiled.  
[Hello Colaen, it's nice to meet you.]  
[Nice to meet you too. Harry's told me a lot about you.]  
[Has he?]  
[Yeah, he says you're the smartest person he knows.]  
[Well, I don't know what to say to that.]  
The two continued to go back and forth. Colaen asked Hermione questions and vice versa. They spoke mentally so quickly that Ron and even Harry had trouble keeping up.  
Ron looked at him with wide eyes.  
"Out of all the dragons, you had to get one that's exactly like Hermione, only on a sugar rush." He whispered incredulously.  
Harry chuckled.  
"Hey, don't go making fun of my dragon. Or Hermione, for that matter."  
After about a minute, Harry thought that he should interrupt the conversation.  
[Errr, sorry to interrupt you.]  
He began.  
[But I still want Ron and Hermione to meet my Father and Thorn. Remember them?]  
Colaen grumbled a little bit, but she along with Hermione and Ron allowed the mental link to be broken.  
Finally, Harry led Ron and Hermione through the remaining trees into the clearing. Colaen ran ahead of them and soon they reached the campsite.  
Murtagh was standing there, waiting for them. Thorn did not seem to be in sight.  
Harry smiled as he went further in the clearing.  
"Ron, Hermione, this is my Father, Murtagh. Father, these are my friends, Ron and Hermione." He introduced.  
Murtagh extended his hand.  
"It is nice to meet you." He began. "Harry has told me much about you."  
They both shook his hand hesitantly.  
"Blimey, your tall." Ron said.  
He turned to Harry.  
"How are you so short?" He asked.  
"I'm not short." Harry argued.  
"You are a little." Ron retorted.  
"You try growing up in a cupboard and see how tall you are."  
Murtagh chuckled.  
"Boys, please." He said, attempting to break up the fight.  
Hermione was looking at Murtagh in the same way she did when she had found a new book.  
"So, you're a Dragon Rider?" She asked.  
"Yes." Murtagh replied.  
"And you know a lot about... That strange magic that Harry used on the train?"  
"Oh no." Ron whispered to Harry. "Here she goes again."  
Just after Murtagh replied, Hermione began firing question after question at the man. Harry had to stifle his laughter. For once, Murtagh's mask was breaking and he appeared slightly flustered. Finally, after a few minutes, Murtagh interrupted the questioning by suggesting that he bring Thorn in to answer some of her questions about Alagaësian dragons.  
"Oh, can I?" Hermione said excited. "I would love to see what it's like to have a mental conversation with an actual dragon. Well, besides Colaen, I mean."  
"Hey, can I join in?" Ron asked. "Might be interesting."  
And so Murtagh called Thorn out of where he had been concealed. After Ron and Hermione got over their shock from seeing the large dragon, Murtagh assisted in establishing a three-way mental bond. While they were distracted with the interrogation of Thorn, Murtagh walked over to Harry.  
"That was... Interesting." He said.  
Harry smiled.  
"Yeah, sorry about that. Hermione can be a bit intense. I can still remember the first time I met her on the train. As soon as she heard my name she started talking about all the books I've been in."  
Murtagh chuckled.  
"I can see why you like her. She is so much like your Mother."  
Harry's face became warm.  
"I don't... She's my friend."  
Murtagh chuckled.  
"Do not worry, I will not push the matter."  
After about ten minutes of Hermione's questioning, she, Ron and Thorn disconnected the bond and the two humans along with Harry and Murtagh sat down around the campfire. Murtagh began telling stories about his misadventures with Eragon while establishing the new Rider Order. They were the most pleasant tales he had from his time. Or at least, the ones he felt most comfortable telling.  
Harry sat with Colaen curled up beside him, her head in his lap. He looked around at the people he cared about, both old and new. It felt nice, to have both friends and family who accepted him.  
He looked at Hermione. He had to admit, she did look kind of pretty in the fire-light, with that smile on her face and... No, bad Harry.  
He shook his head. He really needed to figure out what was going on with his mind and body.  
[Why do human emotions have to be so complicated?]  
Colaen asked.  
Harry shrugged.  
[Don't know, but it's really annoying.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I want to start any romantic subplots. When beginning this story, my main goal ers to build a good father÷son relationship between Murtagh and Harry. This story is primarily about family, so I didn't give much thought to romance for Harry. And then I remembered something that happened in the Triwizard Tornament. The freaking Yull Ball. So then I thought, why not, lets add some more loving for Harry. I've kind of set up a possible romance with Hermione in this chapter, but I have also given room for it just being Harry discovering puberty and possibly falling in love in the future. Plus, it's good for Harry and Murtagh to have a father÷son moment that was somewhat normal, rather than something to do with magic or their very tradgic backstories. What do you think I should do about ⠮ romance thing?  
Thanks!


	15. Tainted Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets really angry at Moody and Dumbledore, and descovers something scary about himself.

Chapter 14:  
  
For the next few days, Harry adjusted to his new routine. He and his Father arranged his Rider training around his timetable. They were concerned that if Harry practiced too much magic, then he may accidentally overwork himself. However, as wizarding magic required less energy than the Ancient Language, they decided to wait and see if this would be an actual concern.  
What was an immediate concern, was Professor Moody.  
Harry was becoming suspicious of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He seemed rather tense around everyone, and his magical eye was always swivelling every which way, as if he were expecting an attack at any moment. He supposed that this was reasonable, as he was a war veteran. But still, it was a bit over the top. He wouldn't even drink from the school goblets, preferring to drink from his own strange flask. Part of him thought that this man's behaviour must be so bad, due to the apparent lack of wizarding therapists. But another part of him was suspicious of the man's intentions.  
This suspicion was further cemented by what the teacher believed was an appropriate way of educating fourteen-year-olds.  
That Thursday they had their first lesson with Professor Moody. Everyone was talking to each other, wandering what this new professor was going to be like. Harry too, was curious. He seemed far more professional than either Quirrell or Lockhart, but gruffer than Remus. And he was a former Auror, so presumably he knew what he was doing.  
As soon as he entered the room, the entire class fell silent. He strode up to his desk and stood behind it, facing them all.  
"Now," He began. "Professor Dumbledore has told me about your previous teachers in this subject. Two of them were shite, but the last one, Lupin, seemed to know what he was doing. From what I've heard, he has pretty much covered how to defend against dark creatures. However, you are all very behind in how to fight against dark curses. The Ministry would rather you not learn about them, but both myself and Dumbledore think you need to be vigilant and know about these, constant vigilance, Mr Finnigan."  
Seamus, who had been muttering to Dean, instantly jumped in surprise.  
"R-right, Professor." He stuttered in shock.  
Moody huffed but continued.  
"Today, I will be demonstrating three very powerful, very dark curses. These three are known as the unforgivable curses, and they can land you a life sentence in Azkaban. Dumbledore has given me permission to show you these."  
Moody then took a glass jar out of his desk. In this jar were three spiders.  
Ron instantly flinched away from the spiders. Harry put a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
"Don't worry," He whispered. "You've got a Rider to make sure the big bad spiders don't get you."  
Ron chuckled.  
"Thanks."  
"Now," Moody began. "Can anyone tell me one of the unforgivable curses?"  
As usual, the room was silent. Hermione was the only one to lift her hand.  
"There is, the imperious curse." She began hesitantly. "It was used to control the minds of its victims."  
Moody grunted and took one of the spiders out of the jar.  
"A lot of the Death-Eaters, after the war, came out claiming they had been under the imperious curse. The biggest problem is that it's hard to tell who has and who hasn't been under it. But you are right, this can allow the caster to control the mind of the victim."  
He tapped the spider with his wand.  
"Imperio."  
Moody began to make the spider Tap dance across the desk. People around the room began to laugh.  
"You think this is funny?" Moody asked. "Would you think it's funny if it were done to you? I can make this spider do anything."  
He began to direct the spider, so it appeared he was going to make it jump off of the desk. Thankfully, he stopped at the last minute and put the spider back in the jar.  
"This is no laughing matter." He said.  
The entire room was silent.  
"Can anyone else name a curse?"  
Yet again, the room was silent. However, Hermione's hand was not the only one up this time. Surprisingly, Neville's hand was also up, though shaking violently.  
"There... There is the... The cruciatus curse." The boy stuttered.  
Harry was honestly surprised. Neville was always so quiet, never having anything to do in lessons except Herbology. And here he was, offering up an unforgivable curse. He could feel his curiosity growing.  
"Yes," Moody said. "The cruciatus curse. A favourite torture method for the Death-Eaters."  
He took out another spider and made it become larger, so they could see it easier.  
"Crucio." He said.  
The spider began to twitch in obvious pain. It made Harry feel sick. Did this man honestly think this was what was appropriate for students? And what about Dumbledore? What was that man thinking? Didn't he think these kids were scared enough from the past three years?  
He looked to Neville to see that the boy had gone very pale and was shaking violently. Though the boy was always nervous, this was just too much. He hated seeing people in pain, and Neville was obviously suffering from some form of trauma.  
It was at this point that he had had enough. Angrily, he stood from his chair. Everyone stared at him in shock.  
"Stop!" He demanded.  
Moody looked up at him.  
"What?" The teacher asked casually. "Can't handle seeing a little pain Potter?"  
Harry scoffed.  
"I have seen more pain than any person of my age should have seen. But this is just wrong. You are subjecting fourteen-year-olds to witnessing the torture of an innocent creature."  
"You need to see this." Moody retorted. "Welcome to the real world Potter, where people get tortured."  
"Look at these people." Harry said, gesturing around ow room at the people who had gone very pale. "You are scaring them."  
Moody scoffed.  
"They need to toughen up."  
Harry clenched his fists.  
"They are only children, they should not have to see this if they don't have too. It's one thing to teach us these things, but to actually show us straight off the bat?"  
He gestured to Neville.  
"He's obviously suffering from some sort of trauma."  
"He needs to toughen up." Moody said simply.  
Harry had to suck in several deep, long breaths to steady himself and to keep from punching Moody. Instead, he walked over to Neville and grasped his arm.  
"Come on Neville, you look like you need some air."  
"B-but..." Neville stuttered. "I.. I'm fine."  
"No, you're not." Harry retorted. "Come on."  
Harry did not care if he would get into trouble. He hated seeing innocents being hurt, physically or otherwise. That spider may have been only an insect, but it was still a living breathing creature. They may use living creatures in transfiguration, but he didn't think it hurt them. At least he hoped it didn't. And then there was Neville... Harry really did not like seeing people suffer. Though he was not particularly close to the shy boy, he still did not like how he was reacting to witnessing the spider being tortured.  
Harry was also thinking about what his Father had told him months ago. His Mum had apparently been friends with Neville's own mother. So much so that she made her one of Harry's potential guardians, if anything ever happened to herself and his Dad. However, something happened to the Longbottoms, that prevented Harry from being taken in by them.  
Harry felt a slight amount of guilt that he had not enquired more about them before, and that he had not tried a little harder to be closer to Neville. After all, they could have potentially grown up together. They could have been as close as brothers, just like what he had heard about Eragon and their cousin Roran.  
So now, as he saw Neville suffering, he knew he had to do something. So he felt justified in leaving the classroom with the other teen.  
He led the shy boy through the corridors until they reached an empty classroom. He sat Neville, who was still pale and shaking, in one of the chairs and sat down himself, turning his chair so it faced the other boy. They were both silent for a long time.  
"Y-you didn't have t to do that." Neville muttered quietly.  
Harry sighed.  
"Yes, I did." He said. "Neville, you were obviously suffering in there. What Moody was doing was messed up. No one should see that. But you... You seemed to react worse than everyone else."  
"I'm fine." Neville muttered.  
Harry sighed and put a hand on Neville's shoulder.  
"Look, I know that we're not exactly the closest, but I don't like seeing people suffer. You are obviously traumatized by something. I'm not going to demand an answer of you, but I know from personal experience that you should never keep your problems in. I've been doing that my entire life, and it hurts. I know you don't know me that well, but if you want to talk..."  
He trailed off. Neville just sat there in silence for a long time.  
"Thanks." The boy muttered. "It's just I... I..."  
"You don't have to say anything." Harry said.  
However, it did not seem that Neville heard him. Suddenly, words began to spill out of the boy's mouth, as if he had been keeping something in for a very long time.  
"My... My parents... Just after You-KnowWho fell... Some... Some Death-Eaters... The Lestranges... They came after them and... And tortured them with..."  
"With the cruciatus curse." Harry said in surprise.  
Neville nodded shakily.  
"Yeah. And... And seeing that spider... It just... It just made me think... Did... Did my parents look like that when..."  
He sucked in a breath.  
"Sorry about... About telling you all this... It's just... No one's ever shown so much care and... And you seem nice and... And you stood up for me in there and... And I guess seeing it, I just... I just needed to let it... Let it out and..."  
Tears began to appear in Neville's eyes. Harry acted on instinct and pulled the boy into his arms. He could feel his robes becoming damp with tears, but he did not care. He rubbed Neville's back comfortingly.  
"They... They're in St Mungos. Gran and I see them every Christmas, b-but it's n-not the s-same..."  
"Shhh." He shushed the distraught boy, rubbing the boy's back. "Easy, easy. Just let it all out."  
For several minutes they just sat like that, Neville crying into his shoulder and Harry rubbing his back and whispering comforting words. Finally, Neville sat back up, his eyes red.  
"T-thanks." He said.  
"It was nothing." Harry replied.  
He squeezed Neville's shoulder.  
"If you ever need someone to talk to, don't hesitate to come to me for help."  
Neville nodded.  
"Will you be okay with going to the next lesson?" Harry asked.  
"I-I think." Neville replied.  
Harry frowned.  
"Are you sure? We could go to Professor McGonagall..."  
"No, no." Neville replied. "I just... Need something to take my mind off it."  
Harry nodded.  
"Okay, if that's what you want."  
They both got up. Neville smiled.  
"Thanks, for helping."  
Harry smiled.  
"Hey, what are friends for?"  
Neville's smile widened.  
"A friend. That would be nice."  
  
At lunch, Harry stormed up to the head table. He stood right in front of Dumbledore, glaring at the old Headmaster from across the table. He could feel the entire hall staring at him, but he did not care.  
"Can I help you Mr Potter?" Dumbledore asked.  
Harry had to resist the urge to draw his sword and stab the old man. He had to sucked in some very deep breaths before he did something he would regret. Like his father said, thinking about hurting someone, and especially using lethal methods, was one thing, but actually doing the deed was entirely different.  
"What the bloody hell are you on?" He demanded.  
"I beg your pardon?" Dumbledore asked.  
Harry clenched his fists.  
"You, and that madman Moody, showing children three of the darkest curses known to wizard kind." He replied angrily.  
"Professor Moody and I," Dumbledore began. "Believe that it is wise for the students to learn about these spells, if they ever encounter them."  
"Was it really necessary to demonstrate them?" Harry demanded.  
"Now Mr Potter," Dumbledore began.  
Harry could feel his anger growing at the man's calmness. How could he be so calm when he knowingly subjected the students under his care to witnessing the horrors of the unforgivable curses?  
"I had to take Neville out of the classroom after Moody tortured a spider." Harry said. "He looked absolutely horrified and it took me ages to calm him down."  
There were gasps around the Great Hall. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Professor McGonagall was getting angry. He looked around the staff table to see that several other teachers, especially Professor Sprout, were also becoming angered by this news.  
"I am sorry that he felt that way." Dumbledore began calmly. "However, I still believe that it is important for the students to learn about these curses. I am afraid that you will have to appologize to Professor Moody for so rudely leaving his class. And I am afraid that Mr Longbottom will have to learn how to cope with his feels towards the Cruciatus curse."  
That was it. Harry could not control it any more. How the hell was Neville supposed to just "cope with his feelings"? He was traumatized. Dumbledore must know what had happened to the Longbottoms. And he had the nerve to just sit there and calmly say that the boy had to "Learn to cope".  
Without hesitation, Harry punched Dumbledore in the face. He felt satisfied to hear the old man's nose break. Blood began to trickle down his face, and Harry could not stop the smirk from appearing on his face.  
"Potter!" Snape said angrily. "How dare you attack a professor?"  
"Oh, shut up Snape." Harry retorted. "I'm not in the mood to deal with you."  
Snape's eyes widened, and he could hear the entire hall gasp. He did not care.  
"Why you..." Snape spluttered.  
"Enough, Severus." Professor McGonagall interrupted. "Mr Potter is right in saying that Dumbledore has gone too far. And while I do feel that his show of violence was a little unnecessary, I can excuse it this once, as he was trying to stand up for another student."  
She glanced at Harry.  
"However, I do hope that this does not happen again."  
Harry grinned.  
"Only if Dumbledore pulls his head out of his ass and actually starts acting responsibly."  
Professor McGonagall's lips thinned, but she did not comment. Professor Sprout cleared her throat.  
"Minerva, I believe we should discuss this further with Professor Dumbledore, especially seeing as his and Moody's decision so heavily negatively affected a student."  
She looked to Harry.  
"Oh, and Mr Potter?"  
"Yes?" Harry replied.  
"Twenty points to Gryffindor for helping Mr Longbottom in his time of need."  
Harry smiled.  
"Thanks."  
And with that, Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout got out of their seats and proceeded to grab Dumbledore and drag him out of the Hall, followed by the rest of the Professors.  
The entire Hall began muttering, but Harry could not hear them. He just stood there, deep in his thoughts. Now that the deed was done, and he had given Dumbledore a piece of his mind, he was somewhat calming down. He was now looking back on what he had done, and how he had felt.  
He had just been so angry. Neville and the rest of the students had been horrified by the lesson, and Dumbledore had the nerve to just sit there so casually. The old fool had a tendency of being irresponsible when it came to the students under his care, but this was just too much. Harry had felt over three years worth of frustration building up inside of him, and it all had just exploded out of him.  
He rarely got so angry. His life with the Dursleys had taught him to be patient. But this, seeing people suffer, seeing Neville in such a state...  
Anger had coursed through his veins like liquid fire, and he had confronted Dumbledore. He had only wanted to use words, try to get him to realize what he had done. But Dumbledore's calmness, how he just casually dismissed Neville's suffering as something he needed to learn to cope with...  
However the most horrifying thing was how he had felt after punching the old Headmaster. He had felt so satisfied, even gleeful, to see the nose breaking. To see the blood trickling down, to hear the bone break, for the man to suffer even a fraction of what the students he was meant to protect had suffered. What Neville had suffered. What he had suffered...  
Now, the thought of how he had felt horrified him. How could he have taken such glee in seeing anyone, even Dumbledore, suffer? Even if the Headmaster had allowed Moody to teach such an unethical lesson, he should still not be so happy in the man's own pain. It was wrong. He knew it was wrong.  
But how could something that should be wrong, feel so right?  
And then there was more. The fact that he had wanted to draw his sword. He had wanted to use his sword to hurt Dumbledore. Not to kill him, but to hurt him. To make him feel the same pain so many others had felt. He had wanted to stab the old fool and watch as his blood spilled onto the floor.  
Why was he feeling this way? He did not think of himself as a violent person. He wanted to help people, not hurt them. He hated violence. He had seen enough of it during his less than stellar childhood.  
He liked to think that people's behaviour was shaped from their experiences. However, part of him felt that this violent streak was something else. Something in his blood. Could it be possible that he... That he had somehow inherited this thirst for violence from... From Morzan?  
He shook his head. He did not care if he would miss his next lesson, this was important. He needed to see his Father.  
  
Murtagh had been meditating in his clearing when Colaen suddenly jumped up. Both he and Thorn sighed. They had only just gotten her to learn how to calm down. And now, for some reason, she was becoming excitable.  
[Thorn, what is going on?]  
He asked his dragon.  
After a few seconds, Thorn replied.  
[Harry is coming.]  
Murtagh frowned.  
[Doesn't he still have lessons?]  
[He is supposed to.]  
Thorn replied.  
[But according to Colaen he is coming, and he seems upset.]  
Murtagh's frown deepened. What had happened to his son? Whatever it was, he knew that this was more important than any peace and quiet he and Thorn might have finally had.  
He got to his feet just as Harry entered the clearing, his pace quick and restless.  
"Harry..." He began.  
"Father, I have an emergency." Harry interrupted.  
Murtagh could see the young man was frazzled. His eyes were darting around, he was wringing his hands, and he couldn't seem to stand still. Murtagh walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder.  
"What happened?" He asked.  
Harry sucked in a breath.  
"IpunchedDumbledoreandIlikedit." He said so quickly that Murtagh could not understand him.  
"What?" Murtagh asked blankly. "Harry, calm down and repeat that slowly."  
Harry sucked in some calming breaths.  
"I punched Dumbledore and I liked it." He repeated.  
Murtagh blinked. He then sighed and led Harry to where Thorn lay. They sat, leaning against the large dragon, and Colaen quickly joined them. She rested her head in Harry's lap, evidentially concerned for her Rider.  
"Now, what happened?" Murtagh asked. "What has Dumbledore done this time?"  
Harry sucked in a breath and began his story.  
"This morning we had our first lesson with the new teacher, Professor Moody." He began. "Things went downhill as soon as he told the class what he would be teaching us."  
"What?" Murtagh asked.  
"Ever heard about the unforgivable curses?" Harry asked.  
Murtagh's eyes widened. He could feel his entire body stiffen. He had heard of these curses, and the horrors they could inflict. The only time he had actually witnessed them in use was the day he met Lily, and he really did not want his son, or any other child, to witness it.  
"Yes." He replied. "I have even seen one of them in use."  
Harry clenched his fists.  
"I saw two out of three of them, and I think the only reason why I didn't see the third was because I left the room."  
He sucked in a shocked breath.  
"What?" He demanded. "He practiced the unforgivable curses on you?"  
Harry shook his head.  
"No, only on some spiders. But we all still saw everything."  
Murtagh had to take a few seconds to compose himself.  
"I presume that Dumbledore was aware of this?"  
Harry laughed bitterly.  
"Yeah, he allowed it." The younger man replied. "Both he and Moody reckon we need to see these things. You know, learn about the true horrors of the real world."  
Murtagh clenched his fists.  
"Was an actual demonstration necessary?"  
"Apparently." Harry replied.  
Murtagh was quickly becoming angered. Yes, at the Rider's Academy they did teach students as young as Harry how to fight with swords and use magic in combat. But that was purely for defense. They saved the more deadly training for later years. But even then, they never saw it necessary to demonstrate war crimes that could give you a life sentence.  
He knew that Harry had suffered more than any person his age should suffer. But that did not mean Murtagh thought that showing him the unforgivable curses was fine. Even seeing one of them done on any creature could be traumatic. He was especially concerned, as presumably Voldemort used the killing curse to kill Lily and James. He feared that this could be quite upsetting or even frightening for his son, to see the curse that had killed two of his parents.  
"You say you left the classroom after only two of the curses?" Murtagh began.  
Harry nodded.  
"Yeah. Moody was torturing one of the spiders with the Cruciartis curse. I felt sick, the entire class was pale, but the worst reaction came from Neville. He was pale and shaking, as if he were on the verge of a panic attack."  
Murtagh frowned. Why would this boy in particular have such a bad reaction? He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.  
Harry continued.  
"I at first tried to get Moody to stop, but the madman just said Neville needed to toughen up if he had a chance in the real world. After a bit of arguing, I just grabbed Neville and walked out. It took me ages to calm him down."  
Murtagh could feel pride swelling in his chest. His son truly had a kind heart. He had stood up to a teacher and comforted another student. The act reminded him so much of Lily, and he knew that she would be proud too. He was thankful that, despite his horrible childhood, Harry was still kind and selfless.  
"You did the right thing." He said.  
Harry smiled, though the expression did not reach his eyes.  
"Yeah, well, we got talking and..."  
He sucked in a breath.  
"I... I found out what happened to his parents."  
Murtagh's eyes widened.  
"What?“  
Harry clenched his fists.  
"Just after Voldemort fell, they were attacked by some Death-Eaters. The Lestranges. And they were tortured into madness with the Cruciatus curse."  
Murtagh clenched his fists so tightly that he could feel his fingernails stabbing into his palms. He remembered watching as the band of Death-Eaters used that very curse to torture Lily. Watching the young woman trying and sometimes failing to hold back her screams. How much pain did Alice and Frank Longbottom have had to go through, to be tortured into madness?  
Harry was stroking the scales on Colaen's head.  
"I was angry that Dumbledore would have allowed this. I mean, he would have known what Neville's parents went through. And surely there are more students who's families have suffered because of those curses. So at lunch I confronted him. No matter what I said he just sat there calmly, acting all superior. Said that Neville had to get over it. I got really angry. This was just another thing to add to the long list of all the times Dumbledore neglected the students under his care. I know that there had to be more than just Neville who reacted this way, and yet Dumbledore didn't care. He only sees the big picture, where everyone knows what the unforgivable curses look like. I get that he wants us to be prepared for anything, but this is too much. Our parents fought and died so we didn't have to see horrors like these, and here Dumbledore and Moody are, showing us in the middle of the classroom."  
Murtagh squeezed his shoulder. Harry shook his head and continued.  
"I got really, really angry and I... Snapped. I just punched him straight in the face."  
"That is understandable." Murtagh said soothingly. "I only hope you did not get into too much trouble."  
Harry shook his head.  
"Snape looked like he wanted to give me detentions until the end of seventh year, but after the rest of the staff heard what happened, they all got pretty angry. Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout literally dragged Dumbledore out of the Great Hall. I was even given twenty points for helping Neville."  
He sucked in a breath.  
"But that's not all." He continued. "When I saw Dumbledore, after I punched him, I... I actually felt happy. I was happy to see the blood flowing from his nose. I felt satisfaction when I heard his nose breaking."  
He began to breathe heavily.  
"I... I enjoyed seeing him in pain." He said. "But I wanted him to suffer more. I wanted him to suffer like the students that are supposed to be under his care have suffered. Like Neville has suffered. Like I have suffered. I... I wanted to draw my sword and make him bleed. Not kill him, but make him hurt badly. I... I just felt so much anger, and I couldn't control it."  
He looked straight into Murtagh's eyes. For once, he did not look like a boy who was forced to grow up too fast. He looked like a vulnerable child, afraid and desperate for some form of comfort.  
"Am I like Morzan?"  
The question hit Murtagh hard. He felt as if the wind had been knocked right out of him.  
How could Harry even think such a thing?  
He could see his son shaking violently, so he wrapped an arm around him and pulled the younger man close. His head rested against Murtagh's chest. With his other hand, Murtagh began running his fingers through his son's messy hair.  
"Listen to me Harry," He began, in a voice that was much calmer than he felt. "You are nothing like Morzan."  
"But I took pleasure in seeing Dumbledore suffer." Harry argued. "I enjoyed it, and wanted him to suffer more for all that he has done."  
Murtagh shushed him.  
"You are nothing like Morzan." He repeated. "Your anger is justified, his was not. You are as kind as he was cruel, as selfless as he was selfish, as good as he was evil. You are nothing like him."  
He did not know how long they sat like that, with him comforting his son. But eventually, Harry seemed to calm down, and he sat up.  
"Thanks." He said quietly.  
Murtagh squeezed his shoulder.  
"I am here for you." He said. "Always, no matter what."  
Harry smiled.  
"Thanks. It's just... I still can not get over how angry I was..."  
Murtagh sighed.  
"I know how it feels." He began. "During the war... I remember being so angry. At Galbatorix, at Eragon, at my life... I was a victim of fate, and I hated it. My own brother wanted to kill me, I was forced to fight for a monster, and I could do nothing about it."  
He sighed.  
"I suppose, that killing the dwarf king Hrothgar was my way of venting out my frustration. I was just full of so much anger, and power, and I unleashed my new power to vent my anger."  
He shook his head and chuckled bitterly.  
"If either of us are like Morzan, I am afraid that it is I."  
"No, you're not." Harry argued, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You actually feel sorry for what you have done. I doubt he ever felt anything resembling remorse. And you are a much better parent. I know that isn't saying much since he set the bar pretty low, but it's still true."  
Murtagh's lips twitched in a smile.  
"It's just the anger..." Harry continued.  
Murtagh chuckled bitterly.  
"Perhaps we can at least blame him for this trait."  
"Yeah, I guess." Harry agreed.  
They were silent for a few seconds.  
"Can I... Can I just stay here for a bit?" Harry asked. "It's just... People are probably still talking about what happened at lunch, and I don't think I'll be able to handle it."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"I have plenty of books in my tent, if you wanted to do some reading. After your sudden burst of violent thoughts, I doubt you would want to do any sword-training."  
Harry nodded.  
"Thanks."  
With that, the younger man got up and walked to the tent.  
  
Later that night, after Harry had gone back to the castle, Murtagh and Thorn silently flew as quickly and stealthily as they could. They had instructed Colaen to remain in the clearing, and hopefully she would listen to them. This was an important mission, and Murtagh was determined for it to succeed.  
After several hours of flight, he and Thorn landed in London under camouflage. He left Thorn in a park and snuck through the streets.  
Without anyone noticing, he found his way into the wizarding hospital, St Mungos.  
He remembered it vaguely from the night when Harry was born. However, he did not completely know the way to his destination. Thankfully, there was a helpful list of the wards in the front foyer. He assumed that the people he sought were in the long-term ward, so that is where he headed.  
After several minutes of wandering around, he found the right ward and entered undetected. He walked over to the two beds at the end of the ward, which had been pushed closely together. He had to stifle a gasp when he saw the two occupants.  
It had only been fourteen years since he had last seen them. But Alice and Frank Longbottom looked so different. Alice's formerly dark hair was now prematurely white, and both of them seemed gaunt and pale. In their sleep, they twitched uncontrollably. It filled him with sorrow to see yet more people he had failed. They had been Lily's friends. They could have potentially taken care of Harry. They had both been good, kind and brave people.  
If he had stayed, he could have done something, anything, to protect them. But no, he had run, and they had been tortured into madness. Dying was one thing, but this...  
Not to mention the effect this must have had on Neville. The poor boy had lived his entire life with his parents so close and yet not even able to recognize him.  
As he looked at them, his mind began to wonder if this could have happened to Lily, if the Death-Eaters had continued to torture her, and if Murtagh was not there to stop them. Could she have been in a bed like this, her beautiful red hair turning prematurely white, unable to recognize the people she loved?  
Murtagh clenched his fists and his resolve strengthened. He could not change the past, but he would do whatever it took to improve the future. He may not be able to give Harry all of his family, but he could ensure that another boy so much like his son was not forced to live without his family for the rest of his life.  
He gently probed into Alice's mind first. It was an honest mess, and it would take longer than this one night to repair the damage. He did the same to Frank, and saw that his was just as bad.  
No matter. Murtagh did not care how long it took, or even if he had to ask Eragon for help. Everyone deserved to have people who loved them. No child should have to go without the love of a parent. The Longbottoms had suffered enough. He would fix their minds, no matter what it took.


	16. Hunting darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murtagh is going all over the country looking for pieces of Voldemort's soul. He's having a much easier job of it than Harry Ron and Hermione did in cannon.

Chapter 15:  
  
Murtagh was wandering the corridors of Hogwarts under heavy camouflage. It was currently the middle of the night, so thankfully there were not that many people for him to avoid. Only the occasional ghost, teacher or prefect.  
Ever since he, Thorn and Colaen had landed in the grounds of Hogwarts, the stone that he was to use to find Voldemort's soul shards had begun to become warmer. He had of course calibrated it to not sense Harry, so there could only be one answer. An answer that terrified him.  
Voldemort had hidden a soul shard in or around Hogwarts.  
He had at first searched around the grounds, hoping to narrow down the possible location. However, the stone continued to grow warmer whenever he stepped closer to the school.  
So, after about a week, he was now following the directions of the stone through the school itself. He had continued to go in the direction that made it become warmer, until he had gone up.  
He had continued higher and higher up in the castle, until he was finally in the seventh floor corridor.  
At this point, he had hit a brick wall. Literally. He was literally standing before a brick wall, the stone becoming so hot that part of him feared it would burn his hand.  
[Perhaps there is a hidden door.]  
Thorn suggested. While the dragon could not see the wall, as he was outside, Murtagh was still sending him images.  
[Perhaps.]  
Murtagh agreed.  
He placed a hand on the wall. He scanned the bricks with his magic.  
There was definitely something there. But a great deal of very old and powerful magic was preventing him from going further.  
Murtagh furrowed his brows and began pacing. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.  
He needed to figure this out. He had to find where Voldemort had hidden his soul shard. It was the only way he could protect Harry and destroy the monster who had killed so many, including the woman he loved.  
Suddenly, a door appeared in the wall. Murtagh blinked in surprise. That was a little too easy.  
He extended his senses to try to find any traps. However, after he confirmed it was safe, he hesitantly opened the door and entered.  
The interior of this room was huge. He suspected that this room had the same enchantments as his tent, making the inside larger than the outside.  
It would appear that several people had used this room for storing things, as an assortment of artifacts were piled all over the place. Murtagh swiftly and nimbly skirted the piles, following the stone. It was quickly becoming excruciatingly hot, to the point where he felt as if he had to drop it.  
Finally, he reached what appeared to be an old cabinet. He opened it carefully. Inside, his attention was quickly drawn to an object radiating dark energy.  
A tiara?  
He thought in disbelief.  
Why would Voldemort have put a part of his soul in a tiara?  
  
Harry voiced the same question when Murtagh presented it to him the next afternoon.  
"Did the darkest wizard of the century seriously put a part of his soul in a tiara?" He asked in disbelief. "What, did he like playing dress up or something?"  
"I have been thinking about it," Murtagh began. "And this looks rather elaborate for a simple trinket. This may be a rather old artifact."  
They were sitting in the clearing with Thorn and Colaen, while speaking to Sirius, Remus and Eragon via the two-way mirrors.  
"You know," Remus began. "Maybe you're right. That really doesn't look like an ordinary tiara."  
"I don't think that is even a tiara." Eragon added. "It looks more like a diadem."  
The four other males blinked.  
"Errr, Uncle, how do you know the difference between a tiara and a diadem?" Harry asked hesitantly.  
Eragon cleared his throat.  
"Arya may have explained the difference to me, when I was reading something..."  
"We are getting off topic." Murtagh interrupted. "We still do not know why Voldemort would have put a piece of his soul into this?"  
They were all silent, studying the diadem. Then, Sirius swore.  
"Bloody hell." He began. "You don't think..."  
He stared at the diadem.  
"Sirius?" Remus asked.  
"Moony, look at it." Sirius said. "You don't think... Could this be the lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw?"  
Remus shook his head.  
"That's only an old legend."  
"Errr, what are you talking about?" Harry asked.  
Remus sighed.  
"It's an old legend." He began. "Apparently, Rowena Ravenclaw used to have an old diadem that would give her wisdom. But it was apparently stolen just before her death."  
They all studied it.  
"I do believe this is more than just a legend." Murtagh said slowly.  
Eragon nodded.  
"Harry, did you not say that Voldemort was the heir of Slytherin?"  
Harry nodded.  
"Yeah, but why would he put a soul shard into an artifact from Ravenclaw? Wouldn't it make more sense to use something from Slytherin?"  
"Perhaps." Eragon agreed. "But perhaps he wished to assert his power over the other houses, make him and his house seem superior, by having his soul in artifacts from other houses."  
Harry nodded.  
"Yes, that does sound like something he would do.”  
"And this means that he could have potentially put a soul shard in artifacts of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor." Murtagh added. "But I do not know what."  
Harry cleared his throat.  
"Don't I count as Gryffindor?"  
The other men chuckled.  
"Yes, yes," Murtagh said, still chuckling. "But you were unintentional. Do we know of any artifacts that Voldemort may have used?"  
The three Gryffindors frowned.  
"The only artifact I can think of is the sword." Sirius replied. "But I don't think he would have put a soul shard in that."  
Harry shook his head.  
"It's too out in the open. He would have wanted to keep anything containing his soul in a safe place."  
They all nodded in agreement.  
"So, how exactly are we going to destroy the soul shard?" Sirius asked.  
Murtagh yet again studied the diadem.  
"The soul shard is protected as long as it's in its container." He began.  
"Can you take it out?" Remus asked.  
Murtagh nodded.  
"I can, it should be easier than trying to remove the soul shard from Harry, as it's not attached to another person's soul. I can do it right now."  
He looked at Harry.  
"But, I do not think that I will be able to destroy it while trying to keep it detached from the diadem. It may try to put itself back in."  
Harry nodded.  
"So I have to destroy it."  
"Woah, hang on," Sirius interjected. "You want Harry to fight against a piece of Voldemort's soul?"  
Harry frowned.  
"Sirius, I fought a shard of Voldemort's soul when I was twelve."  
"And you almost died."  
"That was because of the basilisk, not because of the shard."  
Murtagh cleared his throat.  
"Believe me, a like it as much as you do. But I know that my son is capable of more than you give him credit for."  
Eragon nodded.  
"And in any case, we should destroy this shard as quickly as possible. We do not have time to take it all the way to the academy, nor can I leave to assist in its destruction."  
Both Sirius and Remus grumbled, but did not reply.  
"I will be putting the mirror away." Murtagh began. "I do not wish for it to be destroyed if there is any magical backlash."  
"Contact us as soon as it's destroyed." Eragon replied.  
Both Murtagh and Harry nodded.  
The surface of the mirror cleared. Father and son stood and looked at each other. Murtagh was still holding the diadem.  
"So, how are we going to do this?" Harry asked.  
Murtagh looked from the diadem, to Harry, and back again. He then sighed in resignation. He did not wish to do this, but he had little choice.  
"I doubt that a normal sword will be able to destroy this soul shard." He began.  
"So?" Harry asked. "What do we do?"  
Murtagh sighed and drew his sword. Harry's eyes widened.  
"No?"  
Murtagh nodded.  
"You must use ZarRoc to destroy the soul shard."  
Murtagh truly did not wish to give this sword to Harry, even for a short amount of time. It was a tainted thing, and Harry... Well, he may not be completely innocent thanks to his upbringing, but he was not as tainted as this blade, or its wielders.  
"A Rider's sword is powerful." He began. "I believe it will be able to destroy the soul shard. And this is the only Rider sword in this country."  
Harry hesitantly approached him. Both their hands were shaking, but somehow he managed to hand the younger man the sword.  
"Stand back." Murtagh said. "This may be dangerous."  
Red magic swirled as he examined the diadem. This artifact was powerful on its own. He could sense the ancient magic.  
However, he could also sense the tainted magic of Voldemort's soul shard. It was disgusting, for such an ancient treasure to have been tainted so.  
It was much easier to detach the soul shard from the diadem, than it was to detach the soul shard from Harry. Even so, it still took a long time. But once it was done, he could sense a great darkness coming into the clearing. He could not focus on this, however, he had to make sure it did not try to get back into the diadem.  
  
Harry stood there, waiting, for what seemed like hours. He knew he could not relax, as the soul shard could come out at any second.  
However, his father only continued to stand there, holding the diadem surrounded by red energy.  
After a very long time, something finally happened. A dark mass came out of the diadem. It was horrible, disgusting.  
Harry knew what he had to do. He tightened his grip on ZarRoc and quickly approached the dark mass.  
"Hey, ugly, over here!" He yelled, trying to get the dark masses attention.  
It worked. The dark mass seemingly turned to him.  
"Yeah, over here Tommy boy!"  
The dark mass swirled in anger. Harry smirked. He knew that taunt would work. If there was one thing he had learnt from memory Riddle, it was that Voldemort hated his real name.  
The dark shape stormed towards him. Harry waited, and waited, and waited... And then, finally, the dark mass was in range. He thrust upwards, to where he presumed whatever passed for a heart in this dark thing was. There was a loud shriek. Then, the dark mass exploded outward, nocking both him and his father to the ground.  
[Harry?]  
He could hear his dragon calling.  
He blinked to see that his dragon was standing above him.  
[I'm fine.]  
He said, shakily getting to his feet. He looked over to where his father was, to see that the man was also shakily getting to his feet, still clutching the diadem and leaning against Thorn's massive form.  
Harry looked around to find that ZarRoc was only a few feet away from him. He picked it up and walked to his father, Colaen following him.  
"Here." He said, smiling weakly. "I think we did it. Do you think we did it?"  
Murtagh also smiled weakly.  
"I think we did."  
Both laughed, though it was strained.  
"So, that's one down," He began. "Merlin knows how many to go."  
Murtagh drew the stone from his pocket.  
"It's still warm, but not as much as it once was."  
"When will it become cold?"  
"When the soul shard in you is the only one left." Murtagh replied.  
"So, what are we going to do with that?" He asked, gesturing towards the diadem.  
Murtagh looked at it.  
"If what Sirius and Remus say is true, then this could give us hidden wisdom."  
Harry grinned.  
"Bet Uncle would love that."  
He laughed at the image of Eragon wearing the diadem.  
Murtagh took back the sword and put it back in its scabbard.  
"You did well." He said.  
Harry smiled.  
"So did you."  
His father patted him on the shoulder.  
"It is now very late. You should get some sleep."  
Harry smiled.  
"Okay. Goodnight."  
  
Three weeks later, Murtagh stood in front of the wizarding bank Gringotts. He had been relieved to discover that Voldemort had not hidden any more of his soul shards in or around Hogwarts. However, this also meant that he and Thorn had to travel greater distances to find the others.  
Now, his stone had led him to Gringotts. He guessed that Voldemort had given the artifact to one of his supporters to hide, just as he had given his diary to Lucius Malfoy.  
Only this one was much better hidden. After all, it would be foolish to try to steal from the goblins. Thanks to Lily, he knew of how fearsome these creatures could be.  
So he had to do this carefully and as diplomatically as he could.  
This time, he did not use camouflage. He just walked straight in. The bank was not too crowded, as Murtagh had come quite late in the afternoon. He did not wish for anyone to get hurt, if a fight did break out.  
He walked up to one of the goblins and waited for him to acknowledge him. After a few minutes, the goblin looked up.  
"Yes, what can Gringotts do for you today?" He said in a bored tone.  
Murtagh lent in closer and replied in a quiet tone.  
"There is a very dark object in one of your vaults."  
The goblins eyes narrowed.  
"What proof do you have?"  
Murtagh produced his stone.  
"This can detect that the object is close."  
The goblin studied the stone with narrowed eyes. He then looked to Murtagh. His eyes widened, before he seemingly called for more goblins. At least half a dozen appeared from a side door, all armed.  
"Come with us." The first goblin says. "We will not hurt you as long as you do not hurt us."  
Murtagh hesitated, but followed them.  
They walked through corridor after corridor, until they came to a very elaborate door. They led him through this door into a very richly decorated office.  
In this office, a richly armoured goblin sat behind a desk. He was obviously of some high rank.  
The half a dozen goblins who had followed him closed the door and stood guard.  
"Dragon rider." The goblin said in a rough voice.  
Murtagh blinked, but kept his mask of calm on.  
"You know what I am?" He asked calmly.  
The goblin chuckled.  
"Our people have heard of you. And we can sense the connection you have to your dragon."  
He stared at Murtagh.  
"You seem to know what I am," Murtagh began. "But may I ask who you are?"  
"I am Ragnuk, King of the Goblins." The goblin, Ragnuk replied.  
Murtagh bowed respectfully, his eyes never leaving the goblin king.  
"I am Murtagh, rider of Thorn and member of the new Rider Council." He replied.  
Both he and Ragnuk stared at each other.  
"I have been told that you believe a dark object is somewhere in my bank." The goblin king began calmly.  
Murtagh nodded.  
"What is this object in question?"  
"It is less about what the object is, and more what the object contains." Murtagh replied. "A shard of the soul of the dark wizard Voldemort."  
Ragnuk's posture straightened. He barked an order to several of the goblins in the room, who quickly ran to fulfill whatever the king had demanded. His gaze then returned to Murtagh.  
"Why have you come here?" The goblin king asked. "Why would a Rider care so much for a land that he is not from, and problems which do not concern him?"  
Murtagh hesitated. He was not about to tell this stranger the complete truth. That would be too risky. So he settled on a half truth.  
"It concerns one of our Riders." He began slowly. "Someone who has been greatly affected by Voldemort, and even now is constantly a victim to the dark wizard."  
"Who?" Ragnuk asked.  
"Harry Potter." He replied.  
Ragnuk stared at him in shock.  
"Harry Potter is a Dragon Rider?"  
Murtagh nodded.  
"Since this summer."  
He stared at the goblin king.  
"How do you know of the Dragon Riders?"  
"Several centuries ago, a sorceress woman came from a far off land." He began. "She attempted to assist us in one of our rebellions against the wizards. She was a healer for the most part. And when she was healing our people, she told stories of the land from whence she came, and of the guardians, the Dragon Riders."  
Murtagh blinked. He had a suspicion he knew who this woman was.  
Before the two could speak any further, the goblins returned, holding what appeared to be a large cup. It was placed on the desk between Murtagh and Ragnuk. The goblin king spoke quickly with the goblins in their own language, before turning to Murtagh.  
"My goblins found this." He began, obviously angered.  
"In which vault?" Murtagh asked.  
Ragnuk sneered.  
"In a vault belonging to Bellatrix Lestrange."  
Murtagh clenched his fists. The Lestranges, of course it had to be the Lestranges.  
"Thank you for finding this." Murtagh said calmly.  
"It is we who should thank you." The goblin king replied. "You assisted us in finding a truly dark object. This could have been a great danger to my people, if left where it was. Now, I and the rest of the Goblin nation owe you a great debt. If you are ever in need of aid, then we shall hold sword, spear and axe for you."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"Thank you. And if you are ever in need of aid, I will draw sword and magic for you."  
Ragnuk nodded in respect.  
He and the Goblin King said their farewells, before Murtagh took the cup and was escorted back out into the main bank.  
  
Later, after he explained what had happened to Eragon, Harry, Sirius and Remus, they all stared at the cup.  
"Look at the engravings." Remus began. "It's a badger."  
"So, it's Hufflepuff then?" Eragon asked.  
"Guess so." Sirius replied.  
Murtagh looked at his son, who was silent.  
"Harry, are you alright?" He asked.  
Harry only glared at the cup.  
"This was in a vault belonging to Bellatrix Lestrange?"  
Murtagh nodded.  
"What else have these Lestranges done?" He asked angrily. "First they torture Neville's parents, now they hide a piece of Voldemort's soul?"  
Murtagh put a comforting hand on his son's shoulder. He turned to the others, who had been informed about the fate of Alice and Frank Longbottom, so were not surprised at Harry's anger.  
"Look, Harry," Sirius began. "I get it. Bellatrix was always one of my craziest cousins."  
Harry scoffed.  
"I still don't know how you can be related to that..."  
Sirius shrugged.  
"What can I say, my entire family was insane. Well, Andromeda was okay, but everyone else..."  
He shook his head.  
"Bellatrix was the worst. She practically worshipped Voldemort."  
Harry sighed.  
"But don't worry." Remus continued. "We're about to destroy the soul shard, and from what I hear Murtagh's working on healing the Longbottoms."  
Murtagh sighed.  
"It's a very long and hard process." He said. "But i am determined to see it through."  
Harry smiled slightly.  
"Can we just get along with destroying the soul shard?"  
  
It was only two weeks later when Murtagh found himself on the outskirts of a small town called Little Hangleton. He had to undo many wards that had been placed upon a hovel of all things. Once he was finished, he stepped through what little remained of the door hesitantly.  
It was filthy, and Murtagh was wondering why he would have placed a piece of his soul in here of all places.  
Finally, he came to an old and rotted kitchen. He rummaged hesitantly through the old cupboards, until he found what appeared to be a dust covered box.  
What struck him was that it was in much better shape than the entire house. He opened it carefully. Inside, there was a ring, with a stone which was emblazoned with a strange symbol.  
Something gnawed at is mind, trying to get through his mental barriers. It was telling him to put the ring on.  
Murtagh shook his head and closed the box. He was not about to even touch this thing until he undid whatever curse was on it.  
  
It was only later, once he and Harry had destroyed the soul shard, that he touched the ring. Whatever curse had been placed on it had been destroyed along with the soul shard. However, there was still something, mysterious about it. Technically speaking, it was the stone with the strange symbol. He detached it from the rest of the ring and studied it.  
Harry had left long ago, so it was only him, Thorn and Colaen. The dragons were asleep. So he was currently, for all intents and purposes, alone.  
He began to turn the stone in his hand, studying the magic that radiated from it.  
Suddenly, something flared in the stone. Some sort of energy. And Murtagh got the feeling that there was something or someone, who hadn't been there before.  
"Who's there?" He asked into the darkness of the night.  
There was no reply for a short time. Then, came a voice which sent shivers up his spine.  
"Murtagh?"  
He turned around, his magic coiled and ready to defend him.  
Before him stood... No, it couldn't be. She was dead. She had been dead for years.  
And yet here she stood, an ethereal glow surrounding her.  
"Lily?" He breathed out.  
The red-haired woman smiled at him sadly, before stepping closer.  
Murtagh stepped back reflexively.  
"You-you're dead." He blurted.  
The spectre only continued to smile at him sadly.  
"Yes, that may be true." She began. "But that stone, it has a very powerful gift."  
She gestured to the stone that was still clutched tightly in Murtagh's hand.  
"So it is truly you?" Murtagh asked.  
Lily reached out a hand towards him. He to, reached for her. And yet, when there fingers met, he only felt a cold mist.  
She was not physically there. Only a mere spectre, little more than a ghost.  
"Oh, Lily," He began, his eyes stinging with tears. "I... I am so, so sorry. I, I should never have left. I..."  
"Murtagh."  
"I was a fool, and a coward. I should have stayed and protected you and Harry and..."  
"Murtagh."  
"I have failed you both. I was not there when you and he needed me, and I am so, so..."  
"Murtagh!"  
Lily stepped closer to him. She brushed her ghostly fingers against his cheek, obviously trying to wipe away his tears.  
"You have not failed." She said calmly. "You are not at fault for my death, Voldemort is. You have not failed, you have only made some mistakes."  
She then smiled.  
"But you have been trying to fix your mistakes."  
Murtagh smiled weakly, though it did not reach his eyes.  
"Always so forgiving." He said, shaking his head. "Even in death, you are still so kind."  
He smiled.  
"He is so much like you."  
Lily's smile widened.  
"Yes, I have seen him." She said. "James and I are so proud of him, of how brave and kind he is. Even if he has a tendency of getting into trouble."  
"You have seen him?" Murtagh asked in surprise.  
Lily nodded.  
"I am always with him, and you. My love for both you and our son transcends even death."  
Murtagh sighed and looked down.  
"I am not deserving of your love."  
He could feel Lily's spectral hand on his shoulder.  
"Murtagh, I have already told you," She began. "You have not failed."  
Murtagh chuckled and looked up at her.  
"Harry was treated as little more than a slave for ten years of his life. He was forced to put himself into danger for three years. He has a piece of Voldemort's soul in his forehead!"  
Lily sighed.  
"Yes, I am sad that Petunia could not look past her resentment towards me."  
She then clenched her fist.  
"And I am really not too happy with Dumbledore. Honestly, that man is just being irresponsible. And what about allowing that madman to show a class of children the unforgivable curses. And after what poor Neville has been through..."  
Murtagh chuckled. He was glad to see that, even in death, Lily still had the temper that he knew and loved.  
The woman calmed herself down and stared at him.  
"You still have a long way to go." She began.  
"If you don't mind me asking, do you know where I can find the rest of Voldemort's soul shards?" He asked hesitantly.  
Lily sighed.  
"I am sorry, but even the dead are restricted in what they can and cannot say. But I can tell you that, including the shard that is in Harry, there are three more."  
Murtagh sighed in relief.  
"So we are half way done." He said.  
Lily nodded.  
"But beware my love, darkness is rising."  
Murtagh frowned.  
"What do you mean?"  
Lily shook her head.  
"I am sorry, but I cannot say."  
She sighed.  
"Just be careful."  
Murtagh clenched his fist.  
"If danger is coming, then I will do whatever it takes to protect our son."  
Lily smiled.  
"I know you will."  
She looked around them.  
"I cannot stay for too much longer."  
She came closer to him. Murtagh wanted so badly to wrap his arms around her, but he knew he couldn't. She was not physically there. She was only a spectre.  
"I love you Murtagh Morzanson Kingkiller." She said gently.  
"Lily." He said quietly.  
She placed a spectral finger on his lips.  
"I know." She replied. "Just know, that I am always with you and our son. No matter what, I am always here."  
She placed a hand on his chest.  
Murtagh blinked away his tears.  
"Thank you." He said in a shaky voice. "You saved me from falling into darkness, you loved me when I did not deserve it. You gave me an incredible son and I..."  
"Shhh." Lily hushed. "I know. And please, tell Harry... Tell him that I am always with him."  
Murtagh nodded.  
Lily faded away. Murtagh fell to his knees. He stared at the stone.  
It was a cursed object. It showed people their lost loved ones, and yet kept them so far. It could drive someone to madness.  
He contemplated tossing it away. But then, he thought over the possibilities.  
He and Eragon could use this to gain knowledge from the dead. Perhaps it would be better to keep it. And anyway, he had to make sure it did not fall into the wrong hands. He shuddered to think about what could happen if such a powerful object fell into the wrong hands.  
He thought about his conversation with his lost love. She had been so beautiful. Just as beautiful as the last time he had seen her. Still so kind, still so forgiving. And she had not even been angry at him.  
He wondered if he should tell Harry about this. Part of him wanted to protect his son from this horrible stone. But another part of him knew that his son hated it when people kept secrets from him.  
He knew that Harry would wish to know about this. And anyway, Lily had asked him to tell Harry that she loved him, and that she would always be with him.  
Murtagh sighed and placed a hand on his chest.  
"Thank you Lily." He whispered. "Thank you."


	17. Death and life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Murtagh have a little trip on Halloween.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There are references to past thoughts of suicide. I didn't originally plan to have it in there, but it just turned out that way. This will most likely be the only time I discuss such a heavy topic, but you never know. Proceed with courcion.

Chapter 16:  
  
Eventually, Murtagh had decided to tell Harry about the event with the stone. When he saw him the next afternoon, he told of the strange power that the stone held, to show those who held it the ones they had loved and lost.  
Harry now sat on the ground beside him, staring at the stone in his hands.  
"So... So you turned it in your hand and it... It showed you Mum?" He asked.  
Murtagh nodded.  
"It must hold very powerful magic, to summon the dead. Though, she was little more than a ghost. I could not touch her, and she could not touch me."  
Harry closed his eyes and clutched the stone tightly.  
"Do you wish to use it?" Murtagh asked. "To speak to her?"  
Harry was silent for a long time. Finally, he shook his head.  
"Not now." He replied. "It's not that I don't want to. It's just... I... I would need some time to prepare... I have so much I want to say to her... Dad too..."  
He put a hand on his son's shoulder.  
"Take all the time you need." He said gently.  
Harry sighed and opened his eyes.  
"What should we do with this?"  
Murtagh pondered this question for a few seconds.  
"In the wrong hands, this could be dangerous." He began. "Much knowledge can be gained from the dead."  
Harry nodded.  
"But we can also gain knowledge from the dead." The younger man added. "I mean, it's thanks to Mum that we know we've destroyed pretty much half of Voldemort's soul."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"Yes, we could use this to gain knowledge." Murtagh agreed. "But it may drive whomever uses it mad with grief."  
"So we could put it somewhere safe... In the academy, probably. Make sure no one gets it unless we absolutely need to use it." Harry suggested.  
Murtagh thought about this, then nodded.  
"Yes, this seems like a wise decision."  
Harry handed the stone back to Murtagh and he put it in a small pouch. They then sat in silence for a long time. Finally, Harry sighed.  
"It would be nice, to see them." He began wistfully. "There's so much I still don't know about them... It's just, so hard."  
He sighed again.  
"No one seems to understand, what it's like. I mean, they always go on about how I survived that night, what we won. But no one ever talks about what we lost, what I lost..."  
He clenched his fist.  
"The Wizarding World praises me for defeating Voldemort before I could even remember, but they seem to always forget that I lost my parents that night. That they sacrificed themselves to make it so I survived."  
Murtagh put a hand on his shoulder.  
"I've never even seen their graves." Harry continued. "I have been to Godric's Hollow, once, but I was a little busy going to see Sirius, and then I was even more distracted with learning about you... And..."  
He sighed again. An idea then popped into Murtagh's head.  
"How about we do that." He said.  
Harry's head shot up.  
"What?"  
"Why do we not go visit them?" He continued.  
Harry blinked in surprise.  
"That... That would be nice." He began. "But when?"  
"Whenever you want." Murtagh replied.  
Harry was silent for a long time.  
"How about on Halloween?" The younger man suggested. "It would be appropriate, seeing as they died on that day, and it's on a weekend, so I won't have to miss out on classes."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"That sounds reasonable, but I still feel as if you will be missed."  
Harry frowned.  
"Maybe... Maybe I could ask Professor McGonagall for permission. I mean, ever since the beginning of this term she seems to want to help me more, and she knew and cared about my parents. Maybe this will help her to be more sympathetic."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"Your Mother spoke very highly of her. Though she is strict, she still has a kind heart. Perhaps this could work."  
"And if it doesn't," Harry began, grinning slightly. "We could always sneak out."  
Murtagh laughed.  
"Are you not afraid of getting into trouble?"  
Harry's grin widened.  
"Getting into trouble? Just sounds like a typical Halloween."  
  
The next day, Harry nocked on Professor McGonagall's office door hesitantly.  
"Enter."  
Harry opened the door and went inside. Professor McGonagall was at her desk marking assignments, but she looked up when he came in.  
"Mr Potter, how may I help you?" She asked.  
"Well Professor," Harry began. "I was wondering if... Well, Halloween's coming up..."  
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow.  
"Yes, and?"  
"And well," Harry continued, suddenly nervous. "Every year there's this big feast here, and this year's going to be extra important because of the whole Triwizard champion thing, but... But I don't really feel up to a big feast full of happy celebration and stuff..."  
Professor McGonagall's lips narrowed.  
"Are you saying that you wish to not attend the feast this year?"  
"No, no." Harry said quickly. "It's just... Well... It's never felt exactly right, eating all that food and pretending to be happy to fit in with everybody else... Not that I have a problem with people being happy, believe me, I would love to have more joy in the world. It's just... My parents died on Halloween, and it's never felt right to celebrate the day that they died to protect me."  
Professor McGonagall's face melted into an expression of sadness.  
"I see." She said softly.  
Harry nodded.  
"I can still be at the feast, I understand how important it is. But... It's on a weekend, so the entire day is free. I just feel like I want... No, I need, to pay my respects to them..."  
He sucked in a breath.  
"Is it okay if I spend the day visiting where they are buried?"  
McGonagall was silent for a long time. Finally she sighed.  
"Yes, yes of course. I can see why you would wish to do such a thing. I could arrange for a member of staff to..."  
Harry shook his head.  
"No Professor." He said. "I need to do this, not me and a member of the staff."  
McGonagall blinked.  
"Are you suggesting that I allow you to leave the grounds unsupervised?"  
Harry nodded.  
"Please, I need to do this." He practically begged. "I'll be careful, and I won't cause any trouble or anything."  
Professor McGonagall was once again silent.  
"As long as you are back by the time of the feast," She began slowly.  
Harry nodded.  
"I will."  
"Then I suppose I can allow it." She finished.  
Harry smiled.  
"Thank you."  
Professor McGonagall nodded.  
"If you feel as if this is something you need to do." She replied. "I shall arrange for a portkey that can take you there and back."  
Harry nodded.  
"Thank you." He repeated before leaving the Professor's office.  
  
On October 30th, Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, observing the arrivals from the other schools, Beaubaxons and Durmstrang. The students from Beaubaxons seemed elegant, but also a bit stuck up, kind of like the elves from the Academy. The Durmstrang students, on the other hand, seemed very intimidating and formidable, kind of like the few urgals he had encountered at the Academy.  
He found them all very interesting. He had had no idea other schools of magic had existed until this year, but in hindsight the idea that Hogwarts was the only school in the World, or even in Europe, was a bit ridiculous. He wondered if it could have been possible for him to have attend another school, besides Hogwarts. Yes, he would have not met the friends he had here, but he would like to know what a normal school year felt like.  
As he examined the newcomers, he sensed something strange from one of the Beaubaxons students. A girl with long blond hair, who was attracting the attention of pretty much every single male student, and even some of the females. Harry could feel the allure, but he tried to focus on something else. He knew it had to be some sort of magical mind trick, but, unfortunately, he and his Father were still having little success in constructing affective mental barriers. It was rather annoying.  
When all the plates were clear, Dumbledore stood to address the hall.  
"The moment has come," Dumbledore said, a little too cheerfully for Harry's taste. It wasn't that he didn't like people being happy, it was just that Dumbledore's attitude was beginning to really get on his nerves. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket, just to clarify the procedure which we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation, and Mr Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."  
Crouch. Harry remembered that name. He was the one who mistreated his house-elf so much that Hermione now bore a terrible grudge against him.  
Dumbledore proceeded to explain the role of these ministry officials as fellow judges of this tournament, as well as the heads of the three schools. And then, Dumbledore revealed the impartial judge.  
A cup with blue fire burning in it.  
"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment, and drop it into the goblet," Dumbledore said. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forwards. Tomorrow night, Hallowe'en, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line."  
Harry instantly thought of several ways an underage student could enter their name. They could get an older student to put it in for them. They could use a levitation charm. Hell, they could make their parchment into a paper airplane and throw it in from the other side of the line. In conclusion, this was far from a foolproof plan.  
Harry was now far more nervous of the prospect of him being entered into the tournament. He decided to calm himself by thinking about what he and his Father had planned for the next day.  
  
Early the next morning, Harry met his Father and their dragons just outside of the gates leading out of Hogwarts. He had just retrieved the portkey from Professor McGonagall, a very old looking boot.  
"Is this big enough for all four of us?" He asked.  
Murtagh nodded.  
"Thorn and Colaen should only have to put a talon each on it."  
Harry looked at his dragon. She had hit quite the growth spurt in the last almost two months. She was now larger than a horse.  
[Are you ready for this?]  
She asked him.  
[Yeah, I've been ready for this for ages.]  
Harry replied.  
[I am here for you.]  
[Thanks.]  
He then turned to his Father, who he now noticed was holding a large bag.  
"Hey, what do you have there?" He asked, gesturing to the bag.  
"Just some things to take to Godric's hollow." Murtagh replied.  
"Like what?" Harry asked curiously.  
Murtagh put the bag down and untied it. Then, from within it he drew a bouquet of red roses and white lilies.  
"For their graves." He explained.  
Harry nodded.  
Murtagh put the flowers away and then drew out... No way.  
"Is that...?" He began.  
Murtagh smiled.  
"Yes, it is a saddle for Colaen. I have been working on it all month. It is enchanted to grow with her."  
Harry blinked.  
"But why?"  
"Because, I believe Colaen is ready to fly with you riding her."  
Harry could feel both his own excitement and his dragon's.  
"Really?" He asked.  
"Really." Murtagh replied. "I thought that the two of you could try flying after... When you feel ready... Just to lighten up the mood."  
Harry smiled widely. Ever since Colaen had hatched for him, he had been excited for when he could finally fly with her. He already loved flying, but could hardly imagine what it must be like, sawing through the sky on the back of his own dragon.  
His excitement was greatly shared by his hyperactive dragon. She was currently jumping up and down, her wings flapping.  
[Yah, yah, yah...]  
Harry chuckled.  
[Okay, okay, calm down.]  
[I can't help it.]  
Colaen replied.  
[I've done all of Thorn's wing exercises, and I've even done some low circuits around the clearing, but now I'm going to actually fly with you.]  
[Okay, yeah, I know, it's really exciting.]  
Harry replied.  
[But we have to go soon.]  
Colaen finally stopped jumping around and did the dragon equivalent to a pout.  
[Oh, fine.]  
Harry chuckled and held out the portkey.  
"Shall we?"  
His Father put his hand on the boot, and the two dragons somehow managed to place a talon each on it. Harry then said the words to activate it.  
"Godric's Hollow."  
Instantly, he felt the strange sensation of being pulled via a hook in his navel.  
  
They all landed in a heap. Thankfully, Thorn did not land on anyone.  
The two dragons flapped their wings irritably, and he and his Father stumbled to their feet.  
[I feel weird.]  
Colaen said.  
[Yeah, me too.]  
Harry replied.  
[Do we seriously have to go back that way?.]  
[Unfortunately.]  
Murtagh cleared his throat.  
"Shall we go, or do you..."  
"Let's go." Harry replied quickly.  
"Are you sure you are ready?" Murtagh asked.  
Harry nodded.  
"How about you?"  
Murtagh closed his eyes and sighed.  
"Yes."  
Murtagh grabbed the portkey and put it in his bag. Then, they hid Thorn and Colaen under camouflage, before they began to walk through the streets of Godric's hollow.  
They soon came to the cemetery, where his Mum and Dad had been buried. His Father put a hand on the gate. Though he did well to hide it, Harry could see the man was shaking. He couldn't blame him. He too, was nervous. He put his hand on his Father's.  
"We can do this." He said quietly.  
Murtagh nodded, smiling appreciatively. Together, they opened the gate and stepped in.  
They passed through row after row of tombstones, before they finally reached what they were looking for.  
They were made out of white marble, shining brightly in the sunlight. The words were so clear that they didn't need to stand too closely to be able to read them. However, both still walked closer and knelt before the tombstones. Harry brushed his fingers over the words engraved upon the marble while he read them.  
  
James Potter, born 27 March 1960, died 31 October 1981  
Lily Evans, born 30 January 1960, died 31 October 1981  
  
The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.  
  
Harry blinked. Then, he blinked once again.  
"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death?" He said in disbelief.  
His father brushed his fingers against the words.  
"Many people think of death as an enemy." The man said quietly. "It is something that could come at any moment, an unstoppable force, a lurking shadow that is inescapable, even from the strongest of beings."  
"I don't think of death as an enemy." Harry said in almost a whisper. "Death is neither good nor evil. It's just a part of life. Yeah, sometimes it can be scary, but sometimes... Sometimes death can be good. Sometimes, death can mean the end to pain. Pain is much worse than death."  
His Father wrapped an arm around him.  
"Sometimes, death can be what sets you free." The man added gently. "But you should never look to it as an answer. Once you are dead, that's it, you can never go back. But life, life is a chance for things to improve."  
Harry nodded.  
"I know that now."  
His Father squeezed him tightly at this last sentence.  
"I hope you do not feel such a way now."  
He shook his head.  
"No. Now, I have something else to help me with the pain."  
  
Murtagh held his son tightly. It was like a stab to his heart, to hear his own child speak such words. He remembered, back when he was a slave to Galbatorix, he had contemplated the freedom of death several times. The only thing that held him back was Thorn.  
And now, he was thankful he had lived, for then he would never have met Lily, and Harry would never have been born. Life was truly a funny thing.  
"Did you ever..." He began hesitantly. "I mean... Have you..."  
Harry nodded.  
"Back at the Dursleys, when I was alone in my cupboard and feeling as if no one would ever love me."  
He looked straight into Murtagh's eyes.  
"But I'm glad I lived."  
Murtagh nodded, wrapping his other arm around his son.  
"I am glad you lived as well."  
The two knelt there in their embrace for a long time. Finally, they parted and Murtagh picked up his bag. He then drew out the flowers he had brought and laid them on the graves.  
"Do you want to say something?" He offered Harry.  
The younger man nodded hesitantly. He cleared his throat.  
"Hey Mum, Dad." He began. "I... I don't know what to say. Sorry it took me so long to get here."  
He laughed nervously.  
"Dumbledore's off his rocker. He's started up this death tournament, and I'm afraid of getting put into it against my will because things like that happen to me every year."  
Murtagh then heard Harry's breath catch in his throat.  
"I I wish you were here. I wish I could have a normal life, or at least as normal as a wizard Dragon Rider can have a life."  
He sighed.  
"But... Thank you, for giving me a chance to live. I'm sorry you died. I guess that while this may not be the life you wanted for me... I... I guess any life is better than no life... I just wish you were in it..."  
He trailed off. Murtagh squeezed his shoulder. He then cleared his throat and began.  
"Hello Lily." He breathed out. "Hello James. I... I am sorry I was such an idiot and didn't come back sooner. I am sorry I did not try to kill Voldemort back then... Back before you..."  
He coughed awkwardly.  
"What I am trying to say is, I am sorry that you are both dead, and that you did not get a chance to live the lives you deserved. But I also wish to thank you. James, you died protecting a child that was not even your own blood, and I... I am thankful. I hope that you have found peace. And Lily... I was in a very dark place when... When you found me and broke through all of the confusion in my mind. You saved me, and gave me far more love than I ever deserved. Words can not even begin to describe how thankful I am for the day I met you."  
He sucked in a breath, now no longer capable of speaking. He could feel tears welling in his eyes, and he did not try to stop them.  
He and Harry knelt there in silence for a long time. Finally, Harry turned to him.  
"Do you... Errr... Do you want to go and see the old house?" He asked hesitantly. "The house we were living in before Voldemort... Just to errr... Have a look at some of their things. I mean, I doubt they would have just wanted their stuff lying around. And errr... I would like to get a better idea of what they were like."  
Murtagh thought over this for a long time. But finally, he nodded.  
"Alright."  
  
At first glance, it looked like every other house. It was only after stepping over the low fence, that the true wreckage of the small cottage was revealed to him. It was in ruin, half of the upper floor completely blown off.  
Harry led him through the old worn down door, down the hallway and up the creaking stairs. He followed his son to a room on the second floor.  
"This was where Mum slept." He explained. "I've already seen it, but if you want to go in..."  
He glanced at him.  
"Do you want me to come with you, or do you want some privacy?"  
"May I do this on my own?" Murtagh requested.  
Harry nodded.  
"I'm going to do some exploring. I didn't have the opportunity to do so last time, so..."  
He trailed off, before turning and leaving Murtagh in the doorway of Lily's last bedroom.  
With shaking hands, he grasped the doorknob and opened the creaking door.  
Every last inch of the room reminded him of her. The simplicity of the decoration, the bedsheets, even the half-open wardrobe. He walked over to the wardrobe and opened it fully. He brushed his fingers along the clothes, remembering how they had felt, how they had looked on her.  
He wondered what they had dressed her in, when they buried her.  
He shook his head. He then noticed a cardboard box in the bottom of the wardrobe. He pulled it out and placed it upon the bed before opening it. It felt kind of strange, going through her belongings, but he remembered this box. She would put the things she treasured most in storage boxes like these, for safe keeping, as she always said when asked.  
This box contained old photo albums, letters, even a scale that had fallen off of Thorn, that the dragon said she could keep.  
And then he found it.  
It was an old record. She had bought it the day after they had gone out dancing together. He remembered the music, the feeling of dancing with her, her body close to his as they danced.  
He rummaged through the box some more and found the record player. There was not enough magic in the air to negatively mess with the technology, so it should work properly. He dusted it off before placing the record in it. He turned it on. After a few seconds of spluttering, it began playing the song he had just been thinking of.  
  
Wise men say,  
Only fools rush in,  
But I can't help falling in love with you...  
  
He began to sway to the music, his lips moving of their own accord.  
He remembered feeling her body so close to his. Her arms around him and his arms around her. The song had just seemed so fitting. Their love had come so fast, and he was unable to stop it.  
  
Shall I stay?  
Would it be a sin?  
If I can't help falling in love with you...  
  
He had tried to fight the feelings. He knew that she deserved far better than him.  
But love was a hard force to fight.  
  
Like a river flows,  
Surely to the see,  
Darling so it goes,  
Some things are meant to be,  
  
Perhaps it was meant to happen. Perhaps he was meant to find her, to fall in love with her.  
He knew that it should have been wrong, a pure soul like hers and a tainted soul like his. But it just felt so right.  
  
Take my hand,  
Take my whole life too,  
For I can't help falling in love with you...  
  
He had loved her, had trusted her, more than he had ever done so with anyone. And she had trusted him in return. She had trusted him, loved him, even after all that he had done. And for that, he loved her. Her kindness, her strong heart, her capacity for forgiveness.  
  
Like a river flows,  
Surely to the see,  
Darling so it goes,  
Some things are meant to be,  
Take my hand,  
Take my whole life too,  
For I can't help falling in love with you,  
For I can't help falling in love with you...  
  
As the song ended, Murtagh could hear what appeared to be clapping echoing through the room. He opened his eyes, though he did not remember closing them, and looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway.  
"Wow, I didn't know you could sing." The younger man commented.  
Murtagh's lips twitched in a sad smile.  
"Your Mother and I once danced to this song." He said wistfully. "The very next day she bought this record to remind herself of that day."  
"It's really nice." Harry said. "You sounded really good."  
"Thank you." Murtagh replied.  
They both stood in silence for a long time. Finally, Murtagh cleared his throat.  
"Do you wish to try flying with Colaen now?"  
Harry's expression immediately brightened.  
"Yeah, sure."  
He then chuckled.  
"Colaen wants to try it too."  
Murtagh chuckled as they left the house, and he could hear Thorn grumbling about hyperactive hatchlings.  
  
They had gone a few kilometres out of Godric's Hollow before dropping the camouflage on Thorn and Colaen. His Father had helped him strap the saddle onto Colaen's back. He was now sitting on her back for the first time, both nervous and excited. They were just finishing adjusting the straps tying his legs to the saddle. When that was done, his Father stepped back.  
"Are you ready?" He asked.  
[Colaen, are you ready?]  
[I've been ready all day, if not longer.]  
[Right.]  
"We're ready." Harry replied out loud.  
Murtagh sucked in a nervous breath.  
"Do not fly too high, do not go into any cloud banks, and whatever you do, please do not attempt any fancy stunts. This is supposed to be a basic flight for the two of you to get used to each other."  
Harry nodded.  
"Alright." His Father began. "Take off in three... Two..."  
Just as Murtagh said "One", Colaen took off. At first it seemed a bit wobbly, but then, they were in the air. Harry could feel the wind whipping at his face, his hair being blown all over the place.  
He then sucked in a breath as he felt a tidal wave of emotions coming from Colaen.  
He had flown before. He had been on a broom, and Buckbeak, and even Thorn. But, as much as he had loved the experience, it was nothing compared to this.  
He could feel Colaen's emotions as much as his own. Both of them felt free, alive, exhilarated. At times he could not figure out where one's feelings began and the other's ended. But he did not care.  
He could feel his blood pumping through his veins, he could feel the chill of the wind. He could feel his dragon beneath him, a large mass of scales and flesh, flapping her elegant wings and gliding gracefully, if a little clumsily, through the skies. Up here, there was nothing that could bring him down. All thoughts of what could have been, and of death tournaments, left his mind like leaves in the wind.  
Up here, he had his dragon, his partner of heart and mind. Up here, he was free. Up here, he was alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a heavy chapter. As I said, it just ended up that way.  
If you ever have thoughts as dark as the ones discussed here, please, seek help. Life is important, no matter how bad it my seem at the moment. It is always darkest before the dawn. Do not give up.  
Thank you for reading.  
Oh, and I do not own the song.


	18. Halloween: The curse of Harry Potter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry really, really doesn't like Halloween. Why does this holiday want to kill him so much? Well, at least he's got a punch of people willing to help him, including a BAMF Father.

Chapter 17:  
Harry was having lots of fun. He just loved flying with Colaen. They both did. He could still feel her emotions in his mind. It was hard to tell where his emotions ended and hers began.  
They were both enjoying themselves so much, that neither noticed it had gotten dark until Colaen slammed into the top of a tree.  
[Ouch, hey, where did that come from?]  
Harry looked around. It had gotten very dark.  
[Errr, I think we should go down now.]  
He said.  
[It's kind of late and... Oh, bloody hell, I'm probably late for the feast.]  
In the end they sent out a mental call for help to Murtagh and Thorn. When they finally landed, Murtagh had some elven lights hovering around the area, and he was standing there, his arms crossed and he was actually tapping his foot. Harry carefully undid the straps on his legs and began to dismount.  
"Sorry about that Father, I must have... Woah..."  
His legs were shaking, obviously from the extended period of time in the air. He ended up falling, and would have landed on his face if his Father had not run over quickly and caught him.  
"Thanks." Harry said, chuckling sheepishly.  
"It is fine." Murtagh replied. "And I do not blame you for wanting to have some fun."  
Harry smiled.  
"Thanks. Time really flies when you're errr, flying."  
"Yes," Murtagh replied amused. "But I am concerned that Professor McGonagall may not be too pleased with you. Did she not request that you return before the feast?"  
"Oh, dam." Harry muttered. "I am going to be in so much trouble."  
"I suppose it is just a typical Halloween."  
"Yeah, but..." Harry argued. "Professor McGonagall is terrifying."  
Murtagh chuckled.  
"So a basilisk and an army of dementors are fine, but you are afraid of a teacher?"  
"You don't know McGonagall." Harry said, shivering. "Forget Dumbledore, Voldemort should have been afraid of Professor McGonagall."  
Murtagh was still chuckling as he pulled the portkey out of his bag.  
"I am glad to see that you have a normal fear like a school teacher."  
"Yeah, me too." Harry replied as he grasped the boot.  
  
Once they returned to Hogwarts, Harry parted from his Father and the dragons with the old boot, and headed towards the castle. As soon as he reached the front doors, he knew he was doomed. Professor McGonagall was waiting for him at the top of the stairs, her arms crossed and her face tight.  
"Professor McGonagall," He began nervously. "I am so sorry. I must have lost track of time and..."  
"It is fine, Mr Potter." Professor McGonagall replied. Even her voice was tense. "However, Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak with you in his office immediately."  
Harry began to follow the woman into the castle.  
"Why?" He asked.  
Professor McGonagall sighed.  
"Something... Unexpected happened during the feast."  
Harry could feel dread pooling in his stomach. Why did he even ask? He had a good idea of what was about to happen.  
  
There was more than just Dumbledore in the office. There were also the two heads of the other schools, Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff, and Bagman, Crouch, and Snape.  
"Ahh, Mr Potter." Bagman began, bouncing on his feet.  
Harry looked around and saw that Bagman was the only one who looked somewhat joyful. Dumbledore had his usual look of false concern, the other heads looked irritated, Crouch was unreadable, and Snape was scowling more than ever.  
"You wished to see me?" Harry asked.  
"Yes, Mr Potter." Dumbledore replied. "I am afraid there have been some... Complications."  
"Such as?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer.  
"Well, you see," Dumbledore began. "When we were drawing the names for the Triwizard champions, something... Strange, happened."  
"Oh, stop putting it off Dumbledore." Karkaroff barked. "It is obvious the boy put his name in the goblet, and knows full well it came out."  
Harry sucked in a deep breath. Of course he had to compete in a death tournament. He couldn't avoid death for one year, could he?  
Dumbledore sighed.  
"Mr Potter, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"  
"Of course not." Harry replied instantly. "I have been busy all day. I wouldn't have had the time..."  
"Bah." Madame Maxime scoffed. "Ze boy is obviously lying. He entered in ze tournament, and he did not even have ze decency to come to the feast."  
"Obviously trying to draw attention to himself." Snape muttered in his shadowy corner.  
Dumbledore cleared his throat.  
"Yes, where were you during the feast Mr Potter?"  
"As I said, I've been busy all day." Harry replied.  
Snape scoffed.  
"What, do you believe that the life of the great Harry Potter is more important than the school feast?"  
Harry could feel his anger rising.  
"If you must know," He began, attempting to remain calm. "I was in Godric's Hollow, visiting my parents' graves for the first time in my life. I felt I should pay my respects before I am forced yet again to sit among the other students and pretend to be happy. I'm not sure if you know this, but my parents kind of died on Halloween, and I've never had the opportunity to properly mourn for them, mainly because I had no idea where they had been buried until a few months ago."  
Everyone in the room looked down, and even Snape looked a bit uncomfortable.  
Dumbledore cleared his throat.  
"As I was saying," He began. "Unfortunately, Mr Potter, it would appear that you have been entered into the Triwizard tournament."  
"No thanks." Harry replied.  
"I beg your pardon?" Dumbledore asked, shocked.  
"I said no thank you." Harry repeated slowly. "I was hoping for a quiet year, without something trying to kill me."  
"I am afraid you cannot simply say no." Dumbledore said gently. "Once you are entered, you cannot leave until the tournament is over. You must compete, or you will lose your magic."  
Harry could not help himself. All the frustration was building up inside of him, and he had to let it out. He threw back his head and laughed.  
"Mr Potter, this is not a laughing matter." Dumbledore said.  
"Really?" Harry asked through his laughter. "Because I think it's bloody hilarious. A death tournament. Either I compete in your stupid death tournament, or I lose my magic..."  
"Now see here Potter." Snape spat. "You stop this immediately, and show some respect, you arrogant, spoilt brat..."  
All amusement left him. He could feel his anger boiling within him, rising to the surface.  
"Spoilt brat." He growled. "Was I just called a spoilt brat by a bitter man who can't let go of his old school grudges long enough to figure out that I am not guilty for my dad's crimes?"  
He could feel his magic swirling around him, reacting to his anger. Objects in the room began to shake. He did not care.  
Red tendrils of magical energy began to wrap around Snape's throat, choking him. Harry's blood sang with excitement. This man deserved the pain. After all these years of bullying, he deserved all the pain he got.  
Harry watched as Snape clutched at his throat, trying to pry the tendrils away. He could see Snape's tongue lulling, his dark eyes bulging. He could hear the people in the room yelling, screaming, telling him to stop, but he couldn't. His anger was too great.  
Suddenly, he heard a voice in his mind.  
[Harry!]  
Harry snapped out of his angered state. The tendrils around Snape's throat vanished, and the man fell to the floor.  
[Colaen?]  
[I could sense your anger from the forest.]  
His dragon replied.  
[I'm just outside the window. Don't worry, I'm out of sight.]  
[Thank you.]  
He said.  
[Go back to my Father. Tell him to call an emergency meeting with Eragon, Remus, Sirius, and even Hurzomna and Brinla. I'll be back down soon with Ron and Hermione. Oh, and tell him that there was a repeat of the Dumbledore incident.]  
He refocussed back to the office. Everyone was staring at him in horror. He cleared his throat.  
"Sorry about that." He began. "It's just... With this whole death tournament thing, my emotions just got out of control..."  
"It is fine, Mr Potter." Professor McGonagall replied, though even she was shaken. "You will not be punished for your accidental magic. I am sure you are tired."  
Harry nodded.  
"I'll be leaving now."  
  
Throughout his journey to the Gryffindor common room, his mind was whirling with the events that had just occurred.  
He had been trying so hard to achieve a better control of his emotions, and yet... He could not help himself. Snape just got on his nerves at the best of times, and to hear the man call him a spoilt brat...  
The man had no idea what he had been through. He was anything but a spoilt brat. In fact, Snape was the one acting like a spoilt brat.  
Just as he reached the corridor leading towards the Fat Lady, he was pulled into an alcove.  
"What the..."  
"Shhh."  
He blinked in surprise when he turned around to see both Hermione and Ron hiding in the alcove, the former of whom had grabbed him.  
"There you are." Hermione whispered. "Where have you been?"  
"I lost track of time." He replied.  
Hermione sighed.  
"Well, something..."  
"Happened at the feast? Yeah, I know." He replied. "I've just been in Dumbledore's office. I came up here to get you two for an emergency meeting."  
Hermione nodded. He looked towards Ron, who had been standing silently. The red-head seemed tense.  
"Ron, are you okay?" He asked.  
Ron let out a shaky breath.  
"Yeah, it's just..." He began. "Well, if you hadn't made it obvious that you didn't want anything to do with this tournament, I might have thought that you entered the tournament."  
"What?" Harry asked in disbelief. "Why would I enter myself into a bloody death tournament?"  
"Well, come on, eternal fame and glory?" Ron argued.  
"I have enough of that, thank you very much."  
"Hey, sorry." Ron said, raising his hands. "It's just... A part of me is kind of jealous. I mean, you're going to get more fame, and I errr..."  
Harry sighed.  
"I understand, you always feel like you're being shoved into the shadows." He said. "Don't worry, I'm not angry with you."  
"You're not?"  
"No." Harry replied. "Thanks for being honest with me, at least."  
He sighed.  
"I'm just frustrated. One year, one bloody year, that's all I asked for. But now... I've been forced to participate in a death tournament."  
He shook his head.  
"And well I... Got a bit angry in there, kind of like what happened when I punched Dumbledore."  
Hermione looked at him in concern.  
"Who did you punch this time?"  
"Well, errr," Harry began sheepishly. "I didn't exactly punch someone. I errr, tried to choke Snape with my magic."  
"What?" Hermione gasped.  
Ron began to grin.  
"Bloody hell mate, I wish I could have seen that."  
"No, you really don't." Harry retorted. "It was horrifying. Or, at least I now see it was horrifying. At the time, I wanted to see him choking. I wanted to crush his throat."  
Hermione put a hand on his shoulder. Harry sucked in a calming breath.  
"Colaen could sense my anger all the way from the forest. She flew up and snapped me out of it. I then told her to inform my Father of what happened. Now come on."  
And with that, Harry left the alcove. Hermione and Ron followed close behind.  
  
As soon as Harry passed the edge of the forest, he could hear his dragon's concerned thoughts.  
[Harry, are you okay? Do you feel any better? Don't worry, Murtagh and the others are ready.]  
[Thanks.]  
Harry replied.  
After a few minutes, they reached the clearing. His Father was sitting against Thorn with the two-way mirror in his hand, but he stood and put the mirror down when he spotted him.  
Immediately, he walked towards Harry and wrapped him in his arms tightly. He could tell his Father was concerned, and he appreciated the contact. But he was also a teenager, and it was kind of embarrassing to be hugged by your Father in front of your friends.  
"Errr, Father, please, my friends..."  
Murtagh pulled away.  
"Sorry." He said. "It is just..."  
He shook his head.  
"Yeah, I know, death tournament." Harry replied. "But we did suspect that it would happen."  
"That makes it no less horrifying for me."  
Ron cleared his throat awkwardly. Hermione elbowed him. Father and son turned to them.  
"Right, we should get started with the emergency meeting." Harry said.  
The four of them walked to sit against Thorn, however, Colaen landed next to the larger dragon and Harry decided to lean against her. The four of them formed a tight circle, Murtagh against Thorn and Harry against Colaen, with Ron and Hermione between them on either side.  
Harry was pleased to see Remus, Sirius, Eragon, Brinla and Hurzomna had all answered the call. After introducing everyone to the people they did not know, Harry explained what happened in the office. When he got to the part about him choking Snape, Colaen sent him feelings of reassurance, and his Father reached over the mirror to grasp his hand.  
"Don't worry Harry." Sirius said. "Snivellus deserved it. I mean, a spoilt brat, you?"  
"That is not the point." Harry argued. "It doesn't matter if Snape deserved it, what does is the fact that I lost my temper, again. I could have easily killed him."  
Eragon frowned.  
"This is concerning. However, what I feel is most important at the moment is the Triwizard tournament."  
"Yes, are you sure there is no way out of it?" Brinla asked.  
Harry shook his head.  
"Very sure, unfortunately."  
"Right." Sirius said. "Moony, get Buckbeak ready."  
Remus nodded.  
"Wait, what?" Harry asked. "Are you actually thinking of coming back?"  
"Yes, of course." Sirius replied. "Someone's entered my godson into a bloody death tournament, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to ensure you survive."  
"As will I." Remus agreed.  
"You can't be serious?" Harry groaned.  
"Deadly." Sirius replied.  
"But what about Dumbledore?"  
"Don't care, I've got the perfect hiding place, even if I never wanted to return there. But hey, you're more important."  
Eragon nodded.  
"I will contact Arya and ask her to watch over the Riders."  
"What? Uncle not you too?"  
"Yes, I am coming as well." Eragon replied. "My nephew, my blood, is once again in danger, and I am determined to stand by you."  
"We are coming too." Hurzomna said, Brinla nodded.  
"You are our friend, and friends stand by each other." Brinla added.  
Harry was honestly stunned. He had never thought, he had never dreamed, that so many people would ever stand behind him.  
[You deserve this Harry.]  
Colaen said.  
[You are a good person, and you deserve all of the love in the world.]  
Harry smiled.  
"Thank you, all of you." He said. "But seriously, this could only be the beginning. We need to figure out who did this."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"And we shall do it together."  
Harry smiled. He then stretched his back.  
"Well, it's getting pretty late." He began.  
"Yes, and we have much to prepare." Eragon added.  
They said their goodbyes, and the mirror turned blank again.  
"Errr, Harry, I wouldn't go back up to the tower." Hermione said hesitantly.  
"Why not?" Harry asked.  
"Because the entire house is throwing you a party." Ron replied. "Why do you think we stopped you outside the Fat Lady?"  
Harry sighed.  
"Right, thanks for the warning."  
He turned to his Father.  
"Mind if I camp out here for tonight? I just really don't want to go to a party that's celebrating me being put into a death tournament."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"Thanks."  
He turned to Ron and Hermione.  
"Well, goodnight." He said.  
"Night." Ron said, before getting up.  
Hermione, surprisingly, threw herself upon him in a tight embrace.  
"Her... ‘Mione... Can't... Breathe..."  
Hermione pulled away.  
"I'm sorry." She said. "It's just... Oh, why can't you just stay out of danger for once?"  
Harry smiled bitterly.  
"I've been asking myself the same question for years."  
Hermione sighed.  
"Just... I'll see you in the morning, I guess."  
Harry nodded.  
"See you later."  
  
After they left, Harry sighed and flopped against Colaen.  
"Do you wish to sleep in the tent or..." He began.  
"Can I sleep out here?" Harry requested. "I find the night air calming."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"I will go and get you a bedroll."  
Once he had retrieved the bedroll from the tent, he helped Harry set it up and the younger man instantly fell onto it. He sighed and stared up at the sky through the canopy.  
"Why do these things always happen to me?" He asked.  
"I do not know." Murtagh replied as he grabbed some spare blankets. Harry did not seem to even have the energy to argue as he was tucked in.  
"Can I blame my bad luck, as well as my temper, on Morzan?" Harry asked.  
Murtagh chuckled wryly.  
"Might as well. That man caused me no small amount of grief."  
Harry chuckled.  
"Yeah, but I think that most of my problems come from either Voldemort, Dumbledore's incompetence, or both."  
"Then why blame Morzan?"  
Harry grinned.  
"Don't know. Maybe I'm trying to find a target for my anger that isn't in reach."  
Harry sighed.  
"I can't believe I almost choked Snape."  
"He did insult you." Murtagh argued. "And he has been harassing you for years."  
Harry nodded.  
"Yeah but... It still doesn't feel right. Well... Now it doesn't feel right. At the time I wanted to crush his throat. I was actually enjoying it, seeing him like that."  
Harry shuddered, and Murtagh put a hand on his shoulder.  
"Get some sleep." He said gently.  
Harry yawned.  
"Okay." The young man muttered, before closing his eyes. "Night."  
After only a few seconds, Murtagh heard Harry's breathing become even, signifying that he had fallen asleep. Murtagh smiled fondly as he saw that Harry was so tired he had even forgotten to take off his glasses. He gently slid them off of the younger man's face and folded them, putting them next to his son's head.  
He sighed and lent against Thorn.  
[What should I do now, Thorn?]  
He asked his dragon.  
[The only thing you can do.]  
Thorn replied.  
[Protect Harry.]  
Murtagh sighed again.  
[I wish it was that easy.]  
[At least the others will be coming soon. You’ll have more than enough help.]  
[Yes, you are right.]  
Murtagh agreed. It pleased him to no end to see his son supported by so many. The kind of support he had never had.  
[But there is still the matter of Harry's anger.]  
He said.  
[It is becoming worse, I fear. We need to find some way to help him.]  
[Perhaps we should eliminate the thing that is causing his temper.]  
Thorn suggested.  
Murtagh laughed bitterly.  
[It is not like we can just get rid of Dumbledore, Voldemort, and anyone else who angers Harry, or at least at the moment.]  
[There is one we can deal with.]  
Thorn argued.  
[Snape.]  
Murtagh frowned.  
[How Thorn? I do not wish to kill him. Despite all that he has done, he has also protected Harry on multiple occasions.]  
[You do not have to kill him.]  
Thorn replied.  
[Perhaps only intimidate him.]  
Murtagh's frown deepened. To reveal himself physically would be too much of a risk, as they still did not wish to reveal the truth of Harry's heritage yet. So the only way to threaten Snape would be to invade his mind. But such an invasion reminded him far too much of Galbatorix.  
On the other hand, Snape had bullied the vast majority of the Hogwarts students, especially Harry. He was Neville's worst fear, that was how bad he was. Perhaps he did deserve it, only a little.  
His mind made, he got up and cast a camouflage upon himself, before leaving the forest and stalking towards the castle.  
  
Sneaking into the castle and finding Snape’s living quarters was a piece of cake. They were in the dungeons, close to his office.  
The man was sleeping when Murtagh snuck in quietly. He stared at the man before him.  
This had once been Lily's closest friend, someone she had cared about, even after she discovered he had become a death-eater.  
This caused Murtagh to hesitate, for as long as it took for him to remember exactly why he was here in the first place. He had to do this. This man needed to learn that there were consequences for harassing innocent children. The visible bruising around his neck from Harry's burst of anger was not enough. He needed a more permanent reminder.  
Determined, he extended his mind to break into Snape's. His mental barriers were impressive. They seemed just as formidable as his own.  
However, Murtagh was able to sneak his way through them, and enter the man's mind.  
His mind was flooded with memories. This was not what he came for. He needed to create an illusion in his mind that would send the right message to him. Even if the method reminded him far too much of Galbatorix, he knew that he had to do it, for Harry's sake.  
However, Murtagh was also curious. What had exactly led this man to become so bitter?  
He saw flashes of a dirty house, of two people yelling... A drunken man... A boy huddling in a corner.  
Murtagh felt a twinge of sympathy. Perhaps he and Snape were not so different. It would seem that he too, had come from an abusive household, just as Murtagh himself had. The only difference being that Morzan had died when he was a small child, while Snape's father had lived until Snape's teen years.  
He saw the joy that Snape felt every time he was around Lily. Murtagh could tell, straight away, that Snape cared for her. He had loved her, just like Murtagh had.  
He saw as the memories became darker, as Snape progressed through Hogwarts and he and Lily drifted further apart. He was constantly bullied by James, and this only caused the darkness within the young man to grow.  
And then, the darkest memory. Lily had told him of this day, but it seemed so much worse from Snape's point of view. He could honestly feel a great amount of sympathy for the man building within him.  
However, all this sympathy evaporated when he discovered a memory from almost fifteen years ago. At this time, Lily would have been pregnant with Harry.  
He saw Snape, listening in as Dumbledore conducted an interview with a potential divination teacher. He watched as Snape heard part of a prophecy, before being discovered by the barkeeper.  
And then he watched in rising anger as he instantly reported what he had heard to Voldemort.  
At this point, he had to draw out of Snape's mind, lest he destroy the man's mind completely.  
He clenched his fists and breathed heavily. Snape did not seem to have been disturbed by Murtagh's wanderings.  
He had to resist the urge to draw ZarRoc and cut the Man's head clean off.  
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...  
This was the reason for Lily and James’ murder. Voldemort had gone after his son because of a prophecy that said the child could potentially be the one to kill him.  
And Snape had been the one to tell him.  
Murtagh could feel his nails digging into the palms of his hands, but he did not care.  
It was because of this man that Voldemort had gone after the woman he loved and his son. He was responsible for his beloved Lily’s death. He was the reason why Harry had been left alone...  
Murtagh had to remind himself, several times, not to kill the man. Instead, he returned to the man's mind, this time with less hesitation.  
He saw more memories. Of Snape realizing his mistake. Of the man begging Voldemort to spare Lily. He had to resist the urge to rip the man's mind apart when he only begged for Lily's safety, and not her child's.  
He watched as Snape then turned to Dumbledore, becoming a double agent in exchange for the promise of Lily, Harry and even James' safety. Mostly because Dumbledore had persuaded him.  
He saw Snape's grief after learning of Lily's death. And finally, of his vow to protect her son.  
Murtagh had to leave Snape's mind again to process this new information.  
Oh, how he wished to kill Snape. He had not wanted to kill someone this badly since Galbatorix. He knew that, regardless of how much Snape protected Harry, it will never change the fact that he had been the one to give Voldemort the information that prompted the dark wizard to go after Harry.  
But on the other hand, once Snape had learnt that Voldemort was targeting Harry, he instantly felt regret, even if it was only because he knew Lily would be in the way.  
No matter what, Snape had loved Lily. And still seemed to love her. He had even turned into a double agent to protect her, and later, he made a vow to protect her son.  
Even after all that Snape had done, Murtagh knew that Harry needed as much help as he could, even if it was from this pathetic excuse of a man.  
So he went back to his original plan, to intimidate Snape into not being so cruel to Harry, or anyone else. And now, he knew what exactly to show the man.  
He returned to Snape's mind, and conjured the image of the old playground he had seen in Snape's memories, the place where the potions master had met Lily. Snape stood in the middle of the playground, looking around, startled.  
"W-what is the meaning of this?" Snape demanded.  
Murtagh sucked in a breath and began. He conjured the image that he wanted Snape to see, and had it walk out of the mist towards the Potions Master. He began to make it speak.  
"Sev?"  
Snape turned around, to see the image of Lily, just as she had been when she had died. Still a woman in her early twenties, with vibrant red hair.  
"L-Lily." Snape gasped.  
He made to reach out to her, but Murtagh made the image slap away the hand.  
"How could you Sev?" Lily demanded.  
Snape's eyes widened.  
"Lily, I..."  
"You told Voldemort about the prophecy." Lily continued. "You are the reason why he came after my family and I."  
"Lily, I..."  
"What, you are sorry?" Lily demanded. "Being sorry does not change the fact that James and I are dead. It does not change the years that my son has been forced to suffer."  
Snape sneered.  
"That boy is as arrogant..."  
Murtagh took great satisfaction in making Lily slap Snape.  
"Do not pretend to know my son." She hissed. "He has suffered more than you could possibly imagine. Do you even know where Dumbledore put him, Severus? He put him with Petunia! You remember how much she hated me, don't you?"  
"W-what?" Snape stuttered. "P-Petunia? But... But Dumbledore said that the boy would be safe."  
Lily laughed bitterly.  
"Have you even looked at Harry? Really looked at him, looked past the fact that he “looks like his father”?" She asked quoting him sardonically. "Have you never noticed how small and thin he is? How pale and scrawny he looks?”  
"I-I..."  
"Of course not." Lily spat mockingly. "You have been too busy, punishing him for James's mistakes. He is an innocent child."  
"Lily..."  
"And what about the other students?" Lily continued. "Not only do you bully my son, but you harass every student that isn't in Slytherin."  
"Lily, I..."  
Murtagh made Lily slap him again. This time, the man fell to his knees, defeated.  
"Please, what will you have me do?" Snape begged apologetically.  
"Stop your cruelty towards the students." Lily began. "Be a teacher, not a tormenter. And stop punishing my son for events that happened before he was born."  
"I-I will." Snape stuttered in fear.  
Murtagh made the illusionary Lily smile in satifaction.  
"Good. Goodbye Sev, and remember, I will be watching you."  
And with that, he made the vision fade away.  
Back in the waking world, he hid in the corner under camouflage and watched as Snape woke in a cold sweat, panting. The man's eyes were darting around wildly, and Murtagh sensed that he would not be getting any more sleep that night.  
And so, with his job done, he left the room, satisfied with what he had done.  
He also needed to figure out this prophecy business. He knew that Harry would like to know about it. However, he also decided that Harry's mental state had suffered enough for the night. So he decided he would wait a day or two, then he would tell Harry, alone, before he told anyone else.  
He could only hope that they could find the full prophecy, somehow.


	19. The morning after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after Harry is entered into a death tournament, and he now has to deal with the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry it's been a while. The reason for the long wait is that, I now have a beta, and there's just been some editting of all the previous chapters. It may take me a week or so to post the editted versions of the previous chapters, due to some technical difficulties. But I just wanted to post this chapter, so here it is. Thank you to Miss_Swan for the help with editting. And to everyone else, hope you enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 18:  
  
Harry woke to the scent of earth and fire. He felt somewhat warm, which was strange considering it was November, and it did not feel as if he was in his bed. When he opened his eyes, all he could see was a large red blur. After groping around for a few seconds, he found his glasses and put them on his face. After he blinked a couple of times, he saw that the red was the underbelly of his dragon.  
He sat up groggily and looked around. He was in his father's campsite, on a bedroll. Colaen was lying next to him, with a wing draped over him protectively. For a moment he wondered why he was here instead of in his bed in the Gryffindor tower. Then he remembered what had happened the night before.  
[Colaen?]  
He asked his still sleeping dragon.  
[Huh... Harry?]  
[Please tell me that last night was all a bad dream and that I haven’t actually been forced to participate in a death tournament.]  
Colaen got to her feet groggily and shook her wings.  
[I can't, sorry.]  
Harry sighed.  
[And I actually tried to strangle Snape?]  
[Afraid so.]  
Harry groaned.  
[He is going to kill me.]  
[Not if I have anything to say about it.]  
Harry chuckled. He turned when he heard footsteps.  
"You are awake." Murtagh said as he approached Harry sleepily.  
Harry studied him. The man looked tired, with his hair tussled and dark shadows under his grey eyes.  
"You don't look like you got much sleep." He observed.  
Murtagh smiled bitterly.  
"That is what happens when my son is entered into a deadly tournament."  
His father eyed him.  
"You do not look as if you had much sleep either."  
Harry shrugged.  
"That's what happens when I am entered in a deadly tournament." Harry shot back cheekily.  
The two chuckled, although there was little amusement in their laughter.  
"Shall we begin our usual morning exercises?" Murtagh suggested.  
Harry nodded.  
"Good idea, I really need to blow off some steam."  
Once they were both dressed, they spent about forty-five minutes stretching and then running around the clearing several times. When they were finished, father and son sat back down on the ground, panting.  
"That felt good." Harry said, smiling.  
Murtagh nodded.  
Harry then sighed.  
"I guess I have to go to breakfast now."  
"You do not have to, if you don't want to." Murtagh said quickly.  
Harry only shook his head.  
"No, I have to." He said. "I'll eventually have to go back there, whether I like it or not."  
"What is the worst that could happen?" Murtagh asked.  
Harry shrugged.  
"Most likely the majority of the school will hate me, as usual. But from what Hermione and Ron told me, Gryffindor will probably be mobbing me, and praising me like some sort of hero."  
He sighed again.  
"I just hope I won't hurt anyone. Still can't believe I tried to choke Snape."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"Yes, your temper is a bit of a problem. But I would not worry about Snape."  
Harry stared at him, wide eyed. Then, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.  
"What did you do to Snape?" He asked.  
"Only what had to be done." Murtagh replied. "But as for your other problem, I think it is best that, if you believe you may lose your temper at breakfast, that I accompany you, so that I am close at hand to calm you down through a mental bond."  
"What?" Harry asked in shock.  
"Do not worry." Murtagh said quickly. "I will be under camouflage. No one will see me."  
Harry continued to stare at his father for a few more seconds, before shaking his head, deciding not to argue with the man.  
"Thanks." He said.  
Murtagh's lips twitched up in a slight smile.  
"Think nothing of it. It is my duty as your father, after all."  
Harry chuckled, before saying farewell to Colaen and Thorn. He left the clearing, dread in his stomach, but his father as an invisible comforting presence.  
  
As soon as he entered the Great Hall, he wished he hadn't. The second he set a foot through the doors, the entire hall fell silent and all eyes turned to him. He tried to ignore the stares, the whispers. Fortunately, he had a lot of practice with this.  
However, he was less successful in ignoring the Gryffindors.  
As soon as he sat down, practically the entire house moved to speak to him.  
"Harry!"  
"Good job."  
"Well done!"  
"How did you do it?"  
"Gryffindor for the win!"  
Harry could feel his mounting annoyance.  
[Just stay calm. Remain calm, Harry.]  
He heard his father say in his mind.  
[Just breathe.]  
Harry tried to do so, taking long, deep breaths in and out. This helped him calm down, somewhat. But unfortunately, it could not stop the Gryffindors from yelling in his face and slapping him on the back.  
Finally, he could not take it any longer. He quickly muttered a spell in the Ancient language to make his voice louder.  
"Okay, everybody shut up!"  
Instantly, there was silence. Not only had the Gryffindor table fallen silent, but so had the entire hall.  
"Okay," He began slowly and clearly, so everyone could hear him. "I am only going to say this once, so listen carefully. I, did not, put, my name, in the Goblet of Fire. I don't want anything to do with this bloody death tournament. I would ask you all kindly to stop being such a bunch of sheeple and actually show some common sense. Do any of you remember seeing me at all yesterday? No, I never had a chance to put my name in. I wasn't even at the feast when they drew the names out. Think about it for one second before jumping to conclusions, if I had entered my name in the goblet, then don't you think I would have been there to see if it actually came out?"  
Harry ended the spell, as it was starting to become draining. As soon as he stopped speaking, the entire hall burst into hushed conversations. Thankfully, the Gryffindors backed off and he was able to grab some food.  
[Well done.]  
Murtagh said.  
[But was it truly necessary to refer to them as "sheeple?"]  
Harry shrugged.  
[I was only stating the truth. They listen to whatever they are told and believe it without question.]  
Harry could sense amusement through the temporary mental bond.  
He was broken from the mental conversation when Ron and Hermione sat down, Ron beside him and Hermione opposite.  
"Bloody hell mate." Ron said. "That was brilliant. I need to learn that spell."  
Harry shrugged.  
"It was a Rider's spell. A bit harder to learn than wizarding magic."  
Ron only shrugged.  
"Well, you definitely shut everyone up."  
"That was the plan." Harry replied.  
"Yes, well." Hermione began. "While I am glad you spoke out, and that you at least tried to reason with them, I thought that it was a little unnecessary to call the entire hall "sheeple“.“  
Harry laughed.  
"You're starting to sound like my father."  
"Well," Hermione retorted. "He is right. I doubt insulting the entire hall will win you any favours."  
[And this is why I approve of her.]  
Murtagh said.  
[She has a good head on her shoulders, and she may be able to reason with you when I am not around.]  
[Father!]  
Harry said, starting to feel embarrassed. Ever since he and Murtagh had had that talk, he was noticing new, unfamiliar feelings beginning to develop. He began to think of Hermione more than usual, and a lot of these thoughts made him feel... Strange. He had once felt as if he could come to Hermione with everything. But now... He could feel a connection building between them, something deeper. He just wanted to be closer to her, to talk to her all night, to hear her shy little laugh... Even to hear her little tangents about various subjects.  
And then would come the other thoughts. How he wanted to feel those bushy curls through his fingers, to hold her hand in his... To feel those soft lips...  
At this point he would shake himself out of it.  
He had been able to control his thoughts around her, thankfully, and he somehow managed to keep their conversations from becoming awkward despite his new strange feelings.  
He had approached his father about it, but he had simply told him there was nothing to worry about, and that it was all a part of growing up. But Harry was not satisfied. He couldn't actually be falling for Hermione. She was his friend, nothing more. He loved her, yes, but only as a friend... Right?  
He shook his head to clear his thoughts and brought his mind back to the present.  
"So, errr," He began, trying to find something to talk about. "Who are the other champions?"  
"Well," Hermione began. "From Beauxbatons there is this girl called Fleur Delacour."  
"She's the very pretty blond." Ron added, gesturing to the Ravenclaw table, towards the girl who had caught Harry's eye during the arrival feast.  
"And from Durmstrang..." Hermione began.  
"Viktor Krum." Ron interrupted excitedly. "The quidditch player, Harry."  
"Yes, thank you Ron." Hermione said, slight irritation in her voice.  
"And from Hogwarts?" Harry asked.  
"Cedric Diggory." Hermione replied.  
Harry blinked. He looked over to the Hufflepuff table. He thought that they were sending him strangely strong glares, which was kind of strange, especially for such a gentle house.  
Harry thought over what he knew about Cedric. He was a good person. The year before, after Harry had fallen from his broomstick during a quidditch game, he had called for a rematch. He was a fair player, and a very talented wizard.  
[Father, I think I have an idea.]  
[What?]  
[You'll see.]  
Harry got up from his seat.  
"Where are you going?" Ron asked.  
"I just need to talk to someone." He said, before leaving his friends and walking to the Hufflepuff table. The entire house was glaring at him, but he ignored them. He hadn't seen such hostility from the Hufflepuffs since second year, when they thought he had targeted Justin Finch-Fletchley.  
Eventually, he reached Cedric surrounded by other seventh years.  
"Hey, errr, Cedric?" He began, second guessing his decision.  
The older seeker, along with everyone else, looked up at him. Cedric's face was the only one not hostile towards him.  
"Yes Harry?" He asked.  
Harry sucked in a breath.  
"Can we errr, talk? Only for a few minutes."  
The other Hufflepuffs began to whisper frantically to Cedric, but the teen reassured them and stood up. Harry smiled.  
They both left the Great Hall, and stood outside the doors somewhat awkwardly.  
"So, what did you want to talk about?" Cedric asked.  
Harry sucked in a deep breath.  
"Look, I'm sorry that my name came out of the goblet and that I kind of stole your thunder, even if..."  
"Don't worry," Cedric said. "I don't think you put your name in the Goblet."  
Harry blinked.  
"You... Don't?"  
Cedric shook his head.  
"Look, I don't know you that well, but you don't seem like the kind of person who would do something like this."  
Harry smiled in relief.  
"Thank you." He said. "It's good to hear that at least someone believes me."  
Cedric nodded.  
"Don't worry, I'll try to convince the others that you didn't do it."  
"Thanks." Harry said. "But that's not why I asked to speak to you."  
He sucked in another breath.  
"I was just thinking... We're both Hogwarts champions." He began. "So, I just thought, maybe we should... You know, stick together."  
Cedric raised an eyebrow.  
"You mean like an alliance?"  
"Yeah." Harry replied. "If either of us win, it's still a win for Hogwarts."  
Cedric frowned.  
"Seems a bit unfair." He said. "The other schools only have one champion each."  
"Yeah, but we can't help that." Harry replied. "The best we can do is make the most of the situation, help each other out. And hey, this might actually give the school something to unite behind, if we stand as a united front."  
Cedric frowned in consideration.  
"I guess, if it's for Hogwarts..."  
Harry nodded, smiling.  
"And you can keep all the gold, I don't need it."  
Cedric shook his head.  
"No, if we're in this together, then we will split the gold fifty-fifty."  
Harry nodded.  
"Okay."  
Cedric nodded.  
"Okay, let's have an alliance."  
Harry smiled and shook Cedric's hand.  
"Great, thanks for this." He said. "I seriously think you deserve to be champion more than me."  
Cedric shrugged.  
"Don't worry about it. And hey, maybe you're right. If we work together, then maybe we can get at least some of the school to agree."  
Harry chuckled.  
"Yeah, we'll see."  
The two walked back into the Great Hall, rejoining their friends and feeling more satisfied.  
"What was that about?" Ron asked as soon as he returned.  
"I was just suggesting to Cedric that we form an alliance." Harry said, shrugging.  
"What?!" Both Ron and Hermione exclaimed in unison.  
"What?" Harry asked. "I just thought it would be a good idea if we helped each other."  
"But Harry!?" Ron argued. "How do you know you can trust him?"  
"Cedric' is a good person." Harry replied. "I can sense he's trustworthy. And anyway, we're both from Hogwarts, we might as well work together. If either of us win, it's still a Hogwarts victory. And we'll split the gold fifty-fifty."  
"I think it's a good idea." Hermione replied.  
[As do I.]  
Murtagh agreed.  
"Thank you." Harry replied out loud to both of them.  
A silence fell between them. Finally, after a few minutes, Ron spoke up.  
"Hey, mate?"  
"Yeah Ron?" Harry asked.  
"What did you do to Snape?"  
Harry frowned. He looked up at the staff table. Snape was staring at his plate, though his gaze was unfocused. He could clearly see the purple bruising around the man's neck, but that was not the most startling thing. Every few seconds, his gaze would flick up from his plate and he would look directly at Harry. Though, Harry felt as if the man were staring right through him.  
And then there was the expression in those black depths. Harry could not quite place it. Guilt...? Sadness...? Fear...?  
"I did not do anything." Harry said. Though, he thought he knew who was responsible.  
  
Later, after breakfast, Harry walked into an empty classroom, Murtagh following close behind him. As soon as Harry had closed the door, his Father dropped the camouflage.  
"Okay, what did you do to Snape?" Harry asked abruptly.  
"Only what had to be done." Murtagh replied calmly.  
"And what exactly does that mean?" Harry demanded.  
Murtagh sighed.  
"The man's constant harassment of you was beginning to have a negative affect on your anger. Last night's events proves this. I had to do something, to make him stop."  
"What?"  
Murtagh sighed again.  
"I went into his bedroom while he was sleeping, and I... Had a look inside his mind."  
"You did what?" Harry asked in shock. "But I thought invading people's minds was wrong."  
"It is." Murtagh said. "But desperate times call for desperate measures."  
Murtagh shook his head.  
"I entered his dream, and manipulated it. Then I... I communicated with him through an image of... Of your mother."  
"What?" Harry yelled. "You... You used my Mum's image to... To scare Snape?"  
"No, no." Murtagh said quickly. "Well, maybe... But you have to understand, it was the only way I could make him listen."  
Harry took several long, deep breaths.  
"I understand. I don't like it, but I understand." He said. "So what did you exactly say to him?"  
"I basically told him to stop his constant harassment of you and the rest of the students." Murtagh replied. "I may have also accidentally told him about your childhood."  
"What!?"  
"Only that you were raised by your mother's sister." Murtagh was quick to reassure. "Though, it was enough for him to imagine exactly how you were treated."  
Harry sighed heavily.  
"Anything else?"  
Murtagh frowned, obviously hesitating.  
"I learnt some... information, that I wish to discuss with you. But not now. I feel you may want to sit down somewhere where you can be free to... Vent your anger."  
Harry nodded.  
"Fine." He said. "Just one thing."  
"Yes?"  
"Please, the next time you want to stop someone from harassing me, don't traumatize them with images of my mum." He requested.  
"I only used your Mother because I thought she would be the most effective way to pass on the message." Murtagh said. "I did not like it, believe me. I hated the mere thought of invading anyone's mind. I only did it to keep you safe."  
"And the gesture is appreciated." Harry replied. "Just please, try to find another way."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"If that is what you want."  
Harry smiled.  
"Thanks."  
  
Later, Harry sat on the Owlery floor, his legs crossed and Hedwig on his knee. He found the room calming, with only the sound of ruffling feathers and hooting owls.  
It had been a while since he had spent some proper quality time with Hedwig. He had just been so busy. He was now making up for it by grooming her feathers. They had become quite dishevelled, poking out in every possible way.  
"Honestly Hedwig." He said, smoothing some of the feathers on her wing. "You look worse than my hair."  
Hedwig hooted in indignation.  
"Hey, I'm just saying." He argued. "How did your feathers even get like this? They're just poking every direction and... Is that a twig? Have you been flying during storms again?"  
Hedwig hooted.  
"I know that that's practically everyday weather right now." He granted. "But I still think you should take better care of yourself. You look like something the cat dragged in... ouch!."  
Hedwig pecked his hand, before flying off of his knee and onto his head. Harry laughed.  
"Oh you little..."  
"Errr, Harry?"  
Harry turned his head, Hedwig still perched on top of it, to see Hermione standing in the owlery doorway, hands full with what appeared to be a plate laden with food.  
"Oh, hey Hermione." He said. "I was just grooming Hedwig's feathers. I think they look worse than my hair, but she disagrees."  
As if to emphasize his point, Hedwig dug her talons into his head slightly, not enough to draw blood but definitely enough to hurt, and flew off, only to land moments later on one of the overhead perches.  
Hermione chuckled, making Harry's heart skip a beat. Thankfully, he was able to prevent any outward reaction.  
"So, what's with the food?" He asked.  
Hermione walked over to him.  
"It's lunchtime, but I figured you wouldn't want to eat with everyone muttering again." She explained.  
Harry nodded.  
"Thanks. Oh, please, sit down. I'll clear a spot for you."  
With a few words in the Ancient Language, he cleared a spot next to him from feathers, animal bones and owl droppings. Hermione sat down and handed the plate to Harry, who began eating.  
"Is it strange that I feel more comfortable eating up here, surrounded by the scent of dead animals and owl droppings, than in the Great Hall?"  
Hermione shook her head.  
"I get it, wanting some privacy."  
Harry smiled.  
"It's better when it's quiet."  
Hermione nodded in agreement.  
"Why do you think I spend so much time in the library?"  
They both laughed. A comfortable silence fell between them. It felt nice, just sitting beside her. They didn't need to exchange words or even touch. Her mere presence made Harry feel safe, and comfortable, and other various things he could not name.  
"Are you okay?" Hermione finally asked.  
"What? Oh, yeah, why?" Harry asked.  
"You were staring at me."  
"What?" Harry asked. "I wasn't... I mean..."  
He cleared his throat.  
"I was just thinking." He began. "This whole tournament thing..."  
Hermione sighed.  
"I know." She said. "It's ridiculous. The entire concept is just barbaric, and it's not fair."  
"Life isn't fair, Hermione." Harry said, smiling bitterly.  
"I know, but..." Hermione argued. "I just can't understand why no one believes that you didn't put your name into the Goblet. It's just illogical."  
Harry grinned.  
"Remember Hermione, wizards and logic don't exactly mix."  
Hermione frowned.  
"Tell me why, Harry it is, that whenever something happens, you are always involved?"  
Harry shrugged.  
"I've been asking myself that question for years."  
Hermione sighed in frustration and rested her head against his shoulder. Harry tried very, very hard to remain calm at the contact. But he could not help but feel... what? Joy? Excitement? Nervousness?  
After a few minutes, he cleared his throat awkwardly.  
"We should errr, go now. Thanks for bringing up the food."  
Hermione sat up.  
"That's okay." She said. "I was only making sure you followed your diet."  
Harry laughed as they both got to their feet.  
"Well, Father's expecting me for magic training soon." He said.  
Hermione nodded.  
"I've got homework to do."  
Harry laughed.  
"Of course you do."  
They both left the owlery. As they parted, Hermione towards the library and Harry for the forest, he could not help but think back on those confusing feelings. And he could not help but yearn for the contact they had earlier.  
  
Later that afternoon, Murtagh stared at his son. They both sat cross legged on the ground, attempting to meditate. Though it appeared that Harry was having trouble.  
"You seem to be having problems concentrating on the task at hand." Murtagh observed.  
Harry jerked in surprise.  
"What, oh, it's nothing." He said quickly.  
"Oh really?" Murtagh asked.  
"Yeah, just..." Harry hesitated. "Earlier, I was talking with Hermione and errr... She kind of errr... Lent her head on my shoulder."  
"Oh, did she now?" Murtagh asked, his lips twitching.  
Harry's face became red.  
"It was nothing." He said quickly. "It's just... Afterwards I felt... Strange... I don't know..."  
Murtagh sighed.  
"Harry, I have already told you." He began calmly. "These feelings could be a sign that..."  
"I'm not falling in love with Hermione." Harry interrupted. "It's not possible."  
Murtagh raised an eyebrow.  
"And why not?"  
"Because, she is my friend." Harry replied.  
"And I have already told you, this is how many relationships begin." Murtagh argued.  
"Just... Can we please stop talking about it." Harry said, before changing the subject abruptly. "Didn't you say you found some interesting information when you looked into Snape's head?"  
Murtagh sighed. He had been dreading this moment. He knew that this would either devastate Harry, or enrage him. But his son deserved to know the truth.  
He moved closer to his son and took the younger man's hands in his, predicting that he would need the comfort.  
"This information concerns Voldemort, and the reason why he attacked you." He began slowly.  
Harry was silent during the entire explanation, though Murtagh could feel the grip that Harry had on his hands tightening. Finally, he finished, and Harry stared at him unblinkingly.  
"So, what you're saying is," Harry began slowly, his voice calm, but containing an undertone of barely contained fury. "Is that Voldemort attacked me, killed my parents, because he had heard of a prophecy that said a child born at the end of July would defeat him?"  
Murtagh nodded.  
"Sadly, we do not have the full prophecy."  
Harry's grip tightened so much that Murtagh could feel the younger man's nails digging into his palms.  
"And Voldemort only knew as much as he did because... Because of Snape?"  
"Yes." Murtagh said. "But as soon as he learnt that Voldemort was planning on coming after you, he..."  
"It does not matter!" Harry exclaimed. "He told Voldemort. He is the reason why they are dead. He is the reason why... Why..."  
Harry quite literally began glowing. Red tendrils of magic swirled around him. Wind began swirling around the entire clearing. The tent was blown off of the ground, and even Colaen and Thorn were knocked off their feet.  
The entire clearing had become a cyclone, and Harry was in the eye of the storm.  
Murtagh tightened his grip on his son's hands. He could feel the energy pushing against him, attacking him. Magical energy burnt his flesh, the wind whipped at his face. It was trying to push him away.  
But he would not let go. He could not let go. No matter how much it hurt him, he would not let go of his son.  
"Harry!" He yelled through the howling wind. "Harry, focus on my voice! Calm down! You need to calm down! Take back control! You need to take back control!"  
Harry's eyes met his. Though their usual green shade remained, the irises were surrounded by a crimson glow.  
"Harry, please." Murtagh practically begged.  
Harry blinked. Then, suddenly, everything was still. The wind stopped, the clearing went silent. The glow that had been radiating from Harry slowly faded, and the young man fell into Murtagh's arms. His son buried his face into his shoulder, and Murtagh felt his clothes quickly become damp with tears.  
He held his son close and rocked him gently, rubbing his back.  
"Shhh, shhh, it's alright. You will be alright."  
Harry did not speak. He only continued to sob, in anger or in sorrow, Murtagh did not know.  
For a long time, they sat like that, Murtagh rubbing his son's back and comforting him as best as he could. Colaen and Thorn had shakily gotten back to their feet, and were now approaching their Riders.  
After a few minutes, Murtagh could feel Harry's breathing become steadier, and he knew his son had fallen asleep, most likely from magical exhaustion. He sighed and rose to his feet, Harry in his arms.  
[Thorn, can you watch Harry while I get a bedroll?]  
He asked.  
[I have a feeling he will be sleeping here again for the night.]  
He gently placed his sleeping son against Thorn's side as he went to the crumpled tent. He used his magic to quickly reassemble it. Thankfully, nothing seemed overly damaged. He would have to definitely clean up the entire tent, as it appeared the sudden wind had knocked practically everything onto the floor, making a sea of mess that he would have to clean up. However, that was not the most pressing issue on his mind. Harry first, then the mess.  
He eventually found a bedroll and a blanket. He left the tent, prepared the bedroll, and gently laid Harry down on it. He tossed the blanket over his son and tucked him in gently. As soon as he stepped back from the sleeping Rider, Colaen ran to him and curled up next to her rider, a wing draped over him.  
Murtagh smiled. His son just looked so young, so innocent, when he was asleep. He had not cut his hair in months, and it was now just past his chin. Colaen's head was right near his, and his dark brown strands kept fluttering about in the dragon's breath.  
Murtagh sighed.  
[That was close.]  
He said.  
[Yes, very.]  
Thorn agreed.  
[He could have very well died.]  
Murtagh continued.  
[Or very seriously hurt himself.]  
[Can you blame him for the outburst?]  
Thorn asked.  
[No, of course not.]  
Murtagh replied.  
[But still... We need to find some way of helping him with his anger, other than eliminating the cause of it. What if something like this happens again?]  
[Yes, this is troubling.]  
Thorn agreed.  
[Perhaps we should discuss this with Eragon.]  
[Yes.]  
Murtagh agreed.  
[Once he and the others arrive.]  
Murtagh sighed as his gaze flicked to the tent.  
[Do you mind watching them while I go clean the tent?]  
[Go ahead. They will be safe while you are cleaning.]  
Thorn replied.  
Murtagh stared at his son and the young dragon one more time, before stepping into the tent. This mess should be easy compared to the troubles he was facing. However, he knew that it was worth it. He would fight entire armies singlehandedly, if it would help protect his son. He would keep Harry safe, even if it was from Harry himself.


	20. Family ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's make-shift family is back together. And some other stuff happens.

Chapter 19:

The next week or so was an exercise of self-control for Harry. The very strenuous hold he had on his temper was at constant risk of becoming completely undone.  
The main source of his rage was Snape.  
Before, he had thought that he could forgive Snape for all he had done eventually. After learning a bit of Snape's past, especially his childhood trauma, Harry felt like he could actually sympathise with the man. Merlin, he had actually found many similarities between him and Snape.  
But now, after learning of Snape's worse and more importantly, unforgivable crime, after learning that he had been the one to give Voldemort the reason for attacking his parents, for attacking him...  
Again, his opinion had changed concerning the potion's master. Harry now saw past the bias of sympathy, and realised that no amount of past trauma, no amount of past abuse, could excuse Snape for what he had done.  
His newfound sympathy had blinded him to the fact that Snape had chosen to join the Death Eaters. Yes, peer pressure may have contributed to it, but it was still Snape's decision. He chose his path. He chose to serve Voldemort, he chose to inform Voldemort of the prophecy.   
It did not matter how sorry he felt afterwards. It did not matter if he became a double agent. It did not even matter that Snape had saved him multiple times. Nothing the man could do would ever redeem him in Harry's eyes.  
Now, whenever Harry saw Snape, he had to resist the urge to do something he would later regret, such as stabbing him, punching him, or even choking him again. Even if Snape barely interacted with Harry now, even during lessons, simply being in close proximity to the man was like putting a lit match extremely close to the keg of powder that was his temper.  
Thankfully, he had Hermione and Ron to help calm him down. Whenever they saw him tense, Hermione would grab his hand and squeeze it tightly, while Ron would try to distract him with stories, either about quidditch or the misadventures of his many older brothers.  
Harry was grateful for their help. He did not know what he would do without them.

The other source of his constantly boiling rage was the giant herd of sheeple otherwise known as the student body of Hogwarts.  
No matter what Harry said or did, he could not convince them that he did not put his name in the goblet of fire. He tried reasoning with them, trying to explain logically that he was innocent. But of course, wizards and logic did not go together.  
Thankfully, there were a small few who actually listened to him and believed that he did not enter his name. Ginny, and the twins after some convincing from Ron, believed his innocence. He was thankful for this, as he thought of the Weasleys as part of his family, and he really did not like conflict between the people he cared about.  
Another person who believed him was Neville.  
Ever since the disastrous first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, Harry had made time to listen to Neville say all the things he was afraid to say. Harry even shared some of his past, and he could sense a friendship growing, though it went quite slowly due to Neville's anxiety and self esteem issues.  
Harry knew that he was far from a qualified therapist, but he was a good listener, and he hoped he could do what he could to help Neville come out of his shell and become more confident in himself. After all, Harry had once been like him; a socially awkward loner who was afraid of interacting with others and not being accepted.  
Harry was pleased when Neville told him that he never believed Harry put his name in the goblet. When Harry had asked about it, Neville had said that, from what he had observed over the years, Harry did not seem like the kind of person who would willingly throw themselves into danger for selfish reasons like eternal glory and a thousand galleons.  
All in all, even if most of the school had turned on him at the first chance they got, there was a small handful of students who believed him, for which he was thankful. It was proof that not the entire school was a herd of sheeple; something he desperately needed these days. He only wished more people believed him.

Murtagh and Harry both agreed they should increase the intensity of the younger Rider's training. Not only that, but they would also take trips every couple days to the nearby mountains so he and Colaen could practice flying together in private.  
Harry was happy with the changes, despite the training being harder.  
What he was not too happy with was Murtagh finally insisting upon Harry wearing something to block his mind. Harry had been determined to learn how to protect his mind as well as his father did. He still felt disappointed that he could not accomplish something that came so easily to his father. Murtagh had not pushed the issue, as he did not wish to take away Harry's freedom of choice concerning this matter.  
But now that they knew someone was determined to harm Harry, and was most likely in the school itself, Murtagh put his foot down and insisted that Harry wear something that was enchanted to protect his mind. There was of course a bit of an argument, but Harry eventually relented. They ended up casting the enchantment upon the necklace that Brinla and Hurzomna had given him for his birthday. Harry was still disappointed in himself, for not being able to protect his mind independently, but he understood that this had to be done. 

His alliance with Cedric was already producing benefits. After a quick discussion, they decided to help each other with training. Cedric would train Harry in some more advanced magic that they believed would be useful, and Harry would help Cedric in physical training.  
It was actually Cedric's idea that Harry help him improve his physical health. Apparently, the older wizard had seen Harry doing his morning routine a few times, whenever the Hufflepuff had been awake to do some early morning homework.  
Cedric had been curious to see if his physical health would have any impact on his magical prowess, and Harry had decided why not?  
So Harry invited Cedric to join him during his morning runs around the lake.  
Over the past couple of months, Harry had increased his number of laps from five to ten. However, he figured that Cedric would not be as used to running as he was, so he eased up and only ran until the older teen felt he could not run anymore.  
To Cedric's credit, he was in better shape than Harry suspected. He was able to run almost three laps before collapsing to the ground, panting heavily.  
"Hey, woah!" Harry said as he skidded to a stop and fell to his knees at Cedric's side. "Are you okay?"  
"Yeah..." Cedric panted harshly, a sheepish grin on his face. "Guess I overworked myself."  
Harry shook his head and got up. He quickly ran to where they had left their robes and pulled a bottle of water from one of his pockets before running back and handing it to Cedric.  
"Thanks." Cedric said, taking a large swig.  
Harry shook his head again.  
"You shouldn't overwork yourself." He said. "You could seriously hurt yourself. I would have hoped you knew this from quidditch practice."  
Cedric nodded, grinning.  
"Yeah, I do." He said. "It's just when I'm trying new things, I like seeing what my limits are. I can't help it if I'm a hard worker."  
Harry rolled his eyes as he took back the water bottle.  
"Typical Hufflepuff.“ He muttered.  
Harry began to lead Cedric through some cool-down stretches.  
"Hey, you don't look as exhausted as I do." Cedric observed.  
Harry shrugged.  
"Yeah well, I've been practicing for a lot longer." He replied. "I'm sure, with a bit more training, you'll be beating my record in no time."  
Cedric frowned.  
"You don't have to cut back on your exercises for my sake." He said.  
Harry only shook his head.  
"It's only fair." He replied. "I don't like showing off."  
"I wouldn't think it's showing off." Cedric replied. "As you said, you've been doing this for a lot longer..."  
Harry only frowned. "It would still feel like showing off to me, and anyway, we're supposed to be working together. So it's only fair."  
After a few seconds, Cedric smiled and nodded.  
"Thanks." He said.  
Harry smiled.  
"Yeah, don't mention it."

About a week after Harry was entered into the tournament, the reinforcements from the academy arrived. It was thankfully in the afternoon, and on a Saturday. So Harry was already in the clearing with his father, Thorn and Colaen when Eragon, Saphira, Hurzomna (on his dragon Volmea), and Brinla, (on her dragon Arnamuith), flew over the Forbidden Forest. The four on the ground helped maneuver the six in the air to the clearing. Thankfully, Murtagh and Thorn had anticipated that they would need a bigger clearing, due to the increase of dragons. So they had taken down a few trees and increased the perimeter of their campsite.  
Eragon and Saphira were the first to land and let their camouflage fall. As soon as the Rider's feet hit the ground, he walked towards where Harry and Murtagh were standing. andHe wrapped his nephew in an embrace. and The younger Rider could tell just how worried his Uncle had been.  
"Hey, don't worry." He said, patting the man on the back. "I'm fine."  
Eragon pulled back and shook his head in frustrated amusement.  
"Yes, you are fine, if you consider being put into a dangerous tournament against your will as fine."  
Harry shrugged.  
"I did say trouble had a habit of finding me."  
Eragon shook his head again and turned to Murtagh.  
"How are you feeling Murtagh?"  
His father shrugged.  
"I am still unhappy with the situation, but there is nothing we can do except ensure Harry is properly prepared."  
The conversation was cut off when something, or rather someone, slammed into Harry, almost knocking him over.  
Brinla, having landed and dropped her camouflage, had pounced upon Harry and wrapped him in a very tight embrace.  
"Harry." She said.  
"Yeah, hi." He said, attempting to catch his breath. "Do you mind...?"  
Brinla loosened her hold on him, but only slightly.  
"I thought I told you to stay out of danger." She reprimanded.  
"And I thought I said I could only promise that until Halloween." Harry retorted. "As I said, danger loves me."  
Brinla only sighed and shook her head.  
"Honestly, you are worse than my sisters..."  
Harry then heard a chuckle from a few metres away. He looked past Brinla's shoulder to see Hurzomna, his lips turned slightly upward in an amused smile.  
Harry decided he wanted to knock that amused smile right off of his elven friend's face, so he sent a quick mental message to Colaen.  
Hurzomna was too busy watching Brinla scolding Harry like an overbearing mother. So he was surprised when a dragon's tail literally swept him off his feet. He ended up crashing into Brinla and Harry. The three young riders all landed on the ground in a great tangle of limbs.  
"Ouch..."  
"Hey, get your elbow out of..."  
"Get your foot off my..."  
Both Murtagh and Eragon chuckled at their antics.  
"Children, please." Murtagh said, a rare smile of amusement on his face.  
Eventually, the three young riders managed to untangle themselves from each other.  
"Well, if you are done playing around," Murtagh began. "I have set up another magical tent, as there is not enough room for the four of us in the one I have been using. Shall we discuss the sleeping arrangements?"  
It was quickly decided that Eragon would move into the tent that Murtagh had been using, while Brinla and Hurzomna would use the new tent. Thankfully, there was a curtain, so the younger riders could have some privacy when they had to change clothes.  
When that was settled, Harry looked around finally noticing three absences.  
"Hey, where're Sirius, Remus and Buckbeak?" He asked.  
Eragon cleared his throat.  
"They did not think it would be wise to come here, as Dumbledore is still presumably trying to track them down. If not to find out where you are, then to find out where you were during the summer."  
Harry nodded in understanding.  
"Sirius did mention something about a secret hideout that Dumbledore could not find." He remarked.  
Murtagh nodded.  
"Perhaps we could go see them tomorrow, give them some time to settle in."  
Harry nodded in understanding.  
"Okay."  
Harry also remembered that Sirius had mentioned he would rather never return to wherever his secret hideout was, but that he was willing to go back there if it meant he could protect Harry. Harry felt a bit guilty for Sirius returning to somewhere he would rather not, purely so he could protect him easier. However, Harry also knew Remus was with Sirius, and that the werewolf would help comfort his friend.

That night, after everyone else had gone to sleep, Murtagh led Eragon to London and into the Wizarding hospital St. Mungo's. When they reached their destination, Eragon frowned down at the two patients in the bed.  
"You say they were tortured into madness?" He asked his older brother.  
Murtagh nodded grimly.  
"They were very good friends of Lily." He said somberly. "They were both attacked just after the fall of Voldemort... They both have a son around the same age as Harry, and the poor boy has very little self-confidence."  
A small smile of pride flickered over his face.  
"Harry has been trying to help him sort through his issues and build his confidence, however."  
Murtagh sighed.  
"For the past couple of months, I have come here every other night to attempt to heal their minds, though it has been a long and arduous process."  
Eragon nodded.  
"Well, how may I help?"  
Murtagh's gaze once again flicked to the Longbottoms, still in their sleep.  
"I have a feeling it will still be a while before they are completely healed." He began. "I was hoping that, with your assistance, we could quicken the process."  
Eragon nodded.  
"Of course." He replied.  
His eyes flicked to his brother.  
"This is a truly good thing you are doing Murtagh." He said.  
Murtagh nodded sadly.  
"I failed them." He said regretfully.  
Eragon grasped his hand.  
"You did not fail them." His brother said reassuringly.  
Murtagh only shook his head.  
"I could have prevented this, but I didn't."  
He sighed.  
"No matter. I cannot change my past mistakes. However, I at least intend to bring them back to sanity at the very least. These two, and their son, all deserve better than this. They deserve to be together."  
Eragon nodded in understanding.  
"And I shall help you in achieving this." He said. "No child deserves to live their entire life without their parents, nor do parents deserve to be separated from their children."  
Murtagh nodded in agreement. They both knew what it was like, to grow up without their biological parents. However, Eragon was at least lucky in that he had still been raised by a loving family, while Murtagh had had a very lonely upbringing.  
But they would ensure the Longbottoms were healed. Murtagh was thankful that Eragon had agreed to help him. The sooner Alice and Frank were healed, the sooner young Neville would be reunited with the parents who had been so close and yet so far for his entire life.

The next day, Harry and Murtagh snuck away from Hogwarts with Thorn and Colaen’s help. They had to rest occasionally, as Colaen was still getting used to having Harry on her back. However, they managed to reach the location that Sirius had told them to meet him.  
They now stood in the middle of a cluster of rundown looking houses.  
"Okay, where are they?" Harry muttered.  
Murtagh looked around. He then noticed something strange.  
"Look." He said, gesturing towards two houses.  
First, there was the house labelled number ten. Then, came number eleven. However, the next house was number thirteen.  
"Errr, okay." Harry said. After a second, an idea popped into his mind. "Maybe number twelve is the secret hideout, and it's hidden by magic."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"I thought so." He said.  
Before they could speak any further, they noticed a figure appearing out of seemingly nowhere.  
"Remus!" Harry said, running up to the werewolf.  
Remus, smiling, wrapped Harry in an embrace.  
"It is good to see you too." He said.  
He turned to Murtagh.  
"Both of you." He added.  
"Where's Sirius?“ Harry asked.  
"Still inside." Remus replied. "We thought it wouldn't be a good idea for his face to be seen in public, because... You know."  
Both Harry and Murtagh nodded in understanding.  
Remus began to lead the two Riders to an area between houses eleven and thirteen. When they were only a few metres away, a house suddenly appeared, pushing the other two houses beside it out of the way.  
"The wards recognise that you have been invited by an occupant of the house." Remus explained. "So it has appeared to you."  
Father and son nodded.  
They reached the front door. Before Remus opened the door, he cleared his throat.  
"Something you must understand." He began. "Sirius's family, the blacks, were a very old and proud pure blood family. So you should expect some... Remnants from their time. Sirius and I have begun cleaning up but..."  
Remus shook his head.  
"Just please, be sure to be very quiet when walking through the front hall."  
Harry and Murtagh nodded. Remus opened the door very quietly and began to walk down the hall as silently as possible. The two Riders followed suit. Harry had much experience of being quiet, so he did not find it too hard to walk down the hall.  
Remus led them into an underground kitchen, where Sirius sat waiting for them. As soon as he saw Harry, the man got up and pounced on him, much as Brinla had done.  
"Bloody hell Harry." He said. "You are a magnet for trouble."  
"Yeah, thanks." Harry muttered. "Are you okay."  
Sirius pulled away and sat down. The other three also took seats at the long table.  
"Yeah, I'm fine." Sirius said, though Harry could hear the gloom in his tone.  
"Was this your family home?" Harry asked hesitantly.  
Sirius nodded.  
"Yeah." He muttered. "Ran away when I was sixteen. My parents were big supporters of Voldemort, and I couldn't take the constant arguing anymore."  
He sighed.  
"My only regret was that I didn't take my brother Regulus with me. Ended up joining Voldemort and dying a year or two later."  
Harry frowned.  
"I'm sorry." He said softly.  
Sirius shook his head.  
"It's fine." He muttered, though Harry doubted he was being completely truthful. "Sorry for all the mess, my darling hag of a mother died about a decade ago, and Kreacher has been the only one here."  
"Who's kreacher?" Harry asked.  
Sirius snorted.  
"A very old and troublesome house-elf."  
"Wait, what?" Harry asked. "Your family had house-elves?"  
Sirius nodded.  
"Yeah. Don't worry, we took down all the house-elf heads that were mounted on the wall, but I still wouldn't bring Hurzomna around, considering Kreacher..."  
Murtagh then cleared his throat.  
"Sorry to interrupt." He began. "However, we may have a situation."  
"What?" All three wizards asked in unison.  
Murtagh drew the stone that he had enchanted to track down Voldemort's soul shards out of his pocket.  
"This has been extremely warm ever since we entered the house." Murtagh explain.  
"What?" Harry said in surprise. "But... But that would mean there is a piece of Voldemort's soul in this building."  
Sirius swore.  
"How the bloody hell did a piece of that snake-faced bastard get into my house?"  
All four stood. Murtagh, using the stone, led the way to the hidden soul container.

They were eventually led to a drawing-room. Murtagh opened the old cabinet. After looking at the many miscellaneous objects that radiated various levels of dark energy, he finally drew out a locket.  
"Look." The older rider said. "There is an S on this."  
"Slytherin." Harry said, his eyes wide.  
Sirius swore.  
"How did... I can't believe... Wait... Kreacher!"  
There was a sudden crack. Then, in the middle of the room, there was a very old and filthy house-elf.  
"Filthy blood-traitor master has summoned Kreacher." The house-elf, Kreacher, said in a very old croaking voice.  
Sirius grabbed the locket from Murtagh and practically shoved it into Kreacher's face.  
"Care to explain how this got here?" The man snarled.  
Kreacher's eyes were wide. He was trembling violently.  
"Master Regulus's locket." He muttered.  
"What!" Sirius practically screamed. "Regulus...? What the blood hell does my brother have to do with..."  
"Sirius, calm down." Harry said.  
He knelt before the obviously distraught house-elf.  
"Kreacher, please." He said soothingly. "Can you please explain how exactly this locket came to be here, and what it has to do with Sirius's brother."  
So the house-elf began his tale. He spoke of how Voldemort had requested that Regulus loan Kreacher to him for an unknown purpose. He described the cave, and the potion Voldemort had forced him to drink. He spoke of how Regulus's summons had saved him from being eaten by undead rising from the water.  
He then described how Regulus had discovered what Voldemort had used Kreacher for, and of the younger Black brother's change of heart. He spoke of how he and Regulus had returned to the cave and of how the young wizard had ordered Kreacher to feed him the potion. At this point, Kreacher was in tears.  
"And then... Then Master Regulus told Kreacher to... To leave him there and... And to destroy the locket." Kreacher continued. "Kreacher did not want to leave Master Regulus but... But Master Regulus had ordered Kreacher so... Kreacher had no choice."  
He continued to sob violently, and Harry did his best to console him.  
"Kreacher has tried everything." The house-elf wailed in grief. "But he has not been able to fulfill Master Regulus's last wish."  
He finished his story, and the room was completely silent, save for the continued weeping of the house-elf.  
Harry looked up from the floor, where he was still comforting Kreacher, to see that Sirius was clutching the locket very tightly in his hand. His grey eyes were a raging storm.  
"Sirius..." Harry began hesitantly.  
Remus made to put a comforting hand on Sirius's shoulder, but Sirius pushed him away.  
"I'm fine." He snapped.  
Harry frowned. He had not heard the man this angry since he had confronted Wormtail in the shrieking Shack.  
"Are you sure?" Remus asked in concern.  
"Yes." Sirius snarled. "Or rather, I will be fine when this thing is destroyed."  
He then began to walk towards the door.  
"There is a dueling ring in the cellar." He said, his voice still tense. "I am sure the wards around it will contain any magical backlash."  
The other three followed the obviously furious wizard.  
Once they reached the door to the cellar, Sirius turned to Murtagh.  
"You will do... Whatever it is you do when you separate the soul shard from its container?"  
Murtagh nodded.  
"Good." Sirius replied. "I want to be the one to destroy it."  
Murtagh, Remus and Harry exchanged a look.  
"Sirius, are you sure?" Remus asked.  
Sirius only nodded.  
"I need to do this Moony." He said in a shaky voice. "For... For Regulus..."

Both Murtagh and Sirius stood in the middle of the dueling ring. Harry and Remus stood to the side, in case they needed backup. Murtagh held the locket, while Sirius held ZarRoc in a vicelike grip.  
Murtagh eyed the wizard warily. He was not exactly comfortable, allowing the furious wizard to hold such a dangerous weapon. However, Sirius had requested that he destroy the soul shard, and Murtagh simply could not refuse.  
He could somewhat understand Sirius's anger. After all, the man was clearly furious over learning the truth of his brother's death. He most likely saw destroying the soul shard that had cost his brother his life as a form of revenge. Murtagh understood this. If anything happened to Eragon, Murtagh knew that he would go to the ends of the earth and beyond to avenge his brother.  
"Are you ready?" He asked.  
Sirius glared at the locket.  
"Let's do this." He growled.  
Murtagh began the process of separating the soul shard from the locket. After a few minutes, a dark mass began to appear, just as it had for all the others. Sirius adjusted his grip on ZarRoc, ready to strike. However, unlike the other shards, this dark mass began to take shape.  
It coalesced into the image of...  
"James?" Sirius gasped.  
The image of James Potter glared at Sirius.  
"Why Sirius?" The image said. "Why did you have to be such a coward?"  
"James, I..." Sirius began, his previous anger being replaced with distress.  
"You told us to change the secret keeper at the last minute, because you were afraid." James spat. "Then Peter betrayed us and now Lily and I are dead."  
"No, no, I..." Sirius said frantically.  
"Sirius, snap out of it." Remus shouted. "That's not James, it's just the soul shard messing with your mind!"  
Sirius shook his head.  
"Nice try, you snake faced bastard." He spat. "You'll have to try better than that if you..."  
Suddenly, the image changed. Where James Potter had once stood, there was now a young man of around seventeen or eighteen years of age, who looked similar to Sirius.  
"Sirius?" The image said.  
"Re... Regulus?" Sirius breathed in surprise.  
"Why Sirius?" The image of Regulus Black said in a sorrowful tone. "Why did you leave me?"  
"Regulus, I'm sorry." Sirius said. "I tried to save you but..."  
"But you were a coward." The image spat. "You ran away, and I was fooled into joining The Dark Lord by our parents. And then I died, I you weren't there to help me. Did you even care that I was dead?"  
"Of course I..." Sirius began, tears welling in his eyes.  
"Sirius!" Remus yelled desperately. "It's not Regulus! It's just the soul shard trying to manipulate you!"  
Sirius's face twisted into absolute rage. He lifted ZarRoc and charged, screaming a furious battle cry, towards the image of his dead brother. The shard had only enough time to widen its crimson red eyes, before Sirius stabbed the blade into its chest. The dark mass exploded outward, and the force of it knocked Murtagh and Sirius against opposite walls. ZarRoc had been blown out of Sirius's hand and had slid across the floor, but that did not matter.  
Murtagh got shakily to his feet, to see that Harry and Remus had rushed over to where Sirius still sat against the wall.  
"Sirius?" Remus asked.  
"Are you okay?" Harry continued, his voice full of concern.  
Sirius did not reply. He had drawn his knees up, and when Murtagh reached them, he could see that the man was crying.  
Remus wrapped his arms around his friend and began to rub his back comfortingly.  
"Shhh." The werewolf hushed as Sirius wept into his shoulder. "It's alright. You did it. You destroyed the soul shard."  
Sirius continued to sob into Remus' shoulder. Harry and Murtagh knelt beside the two wizards, also comforting the distraught man.  
"I... I am fine." Sirius muttered into Remus' shoulder. "It's just... All these years... I thought that... That Regulus died for that... That... And to learn that he... He died fighting Voldemort... That he died like a hero..."  
"Shhh." Remus hushed again. "It will be alright Sirius. You have done it. You have finished what Regulus started."  
Sirius nodded.  
"I know." He said weakly.  
Shakily, Sirius pulled away from Remus and got to his feet.  
"I... I just need some time... To process all of this." He said shakily.  
Murtagh and Harry nodded in understanding.  
Sirius left the room. Remus turned to the two Riders.  
"You should go back to Hogwarts." He said quietly. "Before Harry's absence is noticed."  
They both nodded.  
"Will Sirius be okay?" Harry asked in concern.  
Remus sighed.  
"Don't worry, I will be here to help him through his grief, and to make sure he does not drink himself to death."  
Murtagh nodded.  
"Sirius is fortunate to have a friend like you."  
Remus smiled sadly.  
"I know. And I am fortunate to have a friend like him as well. Now, you two better be off."

As they were flying back to Hogwarts, Harry voiced his concerns to his father.  
[Do you really think we should have left Sirius in the state he was in?]  
Murtagh sighed.  
[I understand your concern. But do not worry about Sirius, I am sure Remus will be able to help him through this emotional time.]  
Harry nodded.  
[I know, but he seemed pretty upset.]  
[I can understand his grief.]  
Murtagh replied.  
[If anything happened to Eragon, I do not know what I would do.]  
Harry sighed.  
[I can kind of understand too.]  
He said.  
[I mean, I don't exactly have a brother, even if I’ve always wanted one. But Ron's kind of like my brother. He's always been there for me, even when I had the brilliant idea of following the spiders into the Forbidden Forest, despite the fact he is terrified of spiders. I don't know what I would do without him.]  
He sighed again.  
[Still, it would be nice to have a brother. I mean, I know that family and blood aren't the same, but still... It would be nice, to experience something like that.]  
He then turned to where he thought his Father was flying.  
[Why are you looking at me?]  
Murtagh asked.  
[Well... you are kind of the only one who can give me a biological brother.]  
Harry argued.  
Murtagh chuckled.  
[Slow down there.]  
He said.  
[I am a little busy keeping you out of danger to even pursue a relationship, let alone conceive another child. One is enough at the moment.]  
Harry pouted. Then, he sighed.  
[Will you ever do it?]  
[I beg your pardon?]  
[Pursue another relationship?]  
Murtagh was silent.  
[Father?]  
Murtagh sighed.  
[I do not know.]  
He admitted.  
[Part of me still grieves for your mother.]  
[Mum wouldn't want you to mourn her forever.]  
Harry pointed out.  
[She would want you to be happy. I want you to be happy.]  
Murtagh sighed again.  
[Let's just focus on getting you through this death tournament. Then we can discuss our love lives.]  
Harry sighed, but agreed.  
[But hey, let's look on the bright side.]  
He said.  
[Not including the shard in my scar, there is only one more.]  
[Yes,]   
Murtagh agreed.  
[Soon, we shall permanently destroy Voldemort.]


	21. The dangers of a loose mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry loses his temper in a very different way.

Chapter 20:

Hry's temper was already in a delicate position, due to his next lesson being potions. But he had to take several deep breaths when he saw Malfoy and his posses' latest display of "maturity".  
"Seriously." He muttered as he saw the Support Cedric Digory badges turn to Potter Stinks. "Is this the best insult you could come up with?"  
"Yes, very funny." Hermione added sarcastically.  
Malfoy sneered at Hermione.  
"Would you like one Granger?" He sneered, holding one out to her. "But do be careful not to touch my hand, I did just wash them, and I would hate to get them dirty by touching a..."  
"Don't you even think about finishing that sentence." Harry growled, his hand subconsciously moving towards his wand.  
"Harry." Hermione hissed in worry.  
Harry merely shook his head. It was one thing to insult him, it was an entirely different thing to insult someone he cared about. He looked over to Ron, who's face had turned red, and who's hand was also on his wand.  
"Go ahead Potter." Malfoy sneered quietly, drawing his wand. "Think you're so special..."  
Both he and Malfoy shouted their spells at the same time.  
What happened next was a complete accident. The two jets of light hit each other, and ricocheted in different directions. Harry's spell hit Goyle, and Malfoy's hit Hermione.  
Hurrying to his best friend’s side with Ron at his heels, Harry didn’t spare a glance in Goyle’s direction, his priority being Hermione’s wellbeing. She was covering her mouth and he felt his ever-present anger rear up its ugly head at the tears pooling in her beautiful brown eyes. It vanished seconds later, giving way to concern for his visibly hurt and mortified friend.  
"Hermione, are you okay?"  
Hermione shook her head desperately, tears now rolling down her cheeks.  
"Sorry, stupid question." Harry said in reply. “Is there anything I can do to help?”  
"What is the meaning of this?"  
All the students in the corridor turned to see Snape taking in the scene, his expression stony as always, which only faltered when his gaze landed on Harry.   
Harry went to answer, but Malfoy beat him to the punch.  
"Potter cursed Goyle."   
"Technically speaking, I was aiming for Malfoy." Harry retorted, doing his best to remain calm. "Which I would not have done if Malfoy hadn’t thought it smart to try and insult my best friend in the most disgusting way possible."  
Snape's gaze flicked away from him, as it had done for the past two weeks; Murtagh's little night time visit was still affecting him strongly it seemed.  
"Someone get Goyle up to the hospital wing, immediately." The man snapped dourly  
"What about Hermione?" Harry asked.  
Snape's gaze yet again flicked to him, before quickly moving away.  
"Fine."  
Harry turned to Ron as he slipped an arm around Hermione’s shoulders.  
"I’ve got this. You?"  
Ron snorted wryly.  
"Don’t worry, I’ll be fine going to class and I won’t explode at the Slytherins if that’s what you mean."  
Harry nodded.  
"Thanks."  
Helping Hermione up the stairs, he decided to wait until they were out of the dungeons to check on the witch again. As soon as they were back in the light of the entrance hall, he turned to Hermione and noticed something poking past her hands, that were still covering her mouth.  
"Hermione?" Harry asked. "Hermione, can you please take your hands away from your mouth, just so I can see..."  
Hermione shook her head.  
"Hermione, please, it will be okay. Please, just trust me. I just want to see what damage Malfoy has done before we go see Madame Pomfrey.“   
After a few more seconds, Hermione slowly lowered her hands and he carefully kept his automatic wince of sympathy off his face. Her two front teeth had grown to more strongly resemble a rabbit's teeth.  
Harry sucked in a few deep breaths, before clutching Hermione's hands in his own.  
"It's okay." He said comfortingly. "We are going to take you to Madame Pomfrey, and she will fix you up. Everything will be okay. And hey, maybe after this I can convince my Father and Eragon to lend you some of their books."  
Hermione's expression brightened slightly.  
Harry chuckled. Hermione hardly needed his help in asking the two elder riders for books. Every time he took Hermione and Ron down to the clearing, his book-loving friend would ask Murtagh question after question, until the rider had decided it would be easier to just loan the witch some books so she could get the information on her own. And ever since Eragon arrived, he and Hermione had been having very, very long discussions about their two different forms of magic.  
Harry turned his mind back to the present.  
"You're going to want something to cover up your teeth, judging by how hard you tried to cover your mouth with your hands." He said.  
He rummaged through his bag for a few seconds, before pulling out his winter scarf.  
“Here, this should help until we get to the hospital wing." He said, wrapping the scarf around the lower part of Hermione's face.  
Hermione squeezed his hand in appreciation, and they continued their journey to the hospital wing. 

Harry sat next to Hermione, holding her hand comfortingly, as Madame Pomfrey held a mirror in front of the witch's face and told her to say when to stop. Slowly, Hermione's teeth began to shrink. Harry was surprised when Hermione did not tell Madame Pomfrey to stop once her teeth were back to their original size, but wisely kept his mouth shut when, she sent him a look that told him to remain silent. In the end, Hermione's teeth ended up being smaller than they once were. They had always been slightly longer than Hermione seemed to like, but Harry never thought she would actually be willing to use magic to shrink them.

Once they left the hospital wing, Harry gently took Hermione's hand in have and led her to the nearest alcove which lay beh a tapestry. He wished to talk to her about her teeth without being court out of class.  
"Hermione, why didn't you tell Pomfrey to stop when your teeth had returned to normal?" He asked.  
Hermione merely shrugged.  
"Well, you know how I've never liked the size of my teeth. I just thought, why not take advantage of this opportunity and, well... The only reason why I haven't tried it before was because my parents are dentists, and I don't think they would be too happy to learn I tried messing around with my teeth."  
Harry stared at her in surprise. He knew that, beneath her intelligent and logical exterior, Hermione was very sensitive and could be subconscious over her appearance, but he never thought she would go so far as to willingly alter her body.  
"Look, I'm not going to criticize your decision." He began. "It was your choice, but... I still feel like this wasn't exactly necessary."  
Hermione shrugged.  
"It might not have been necessary, but I... Well, I guess I've had enough of having uneven teeth. Not exactly the most attractive image."  
Harry clasped her hand in his and stared into her brown eyes.  
"I know you've always felt subconscious about your appearance." He began diplomatically. "But I've never seen anything wrong with how you look."  
Hermione's face noticeably turned pink.  
"Really?"  
Harry nodded.  
"Hermione, you are the most intelligent person I know. Not only that, but you are brave, and kind, and... It's that, not your physical appearance that makes you..."  
He stopped himself before he admitted to finding her beautiful. He suddenly noticed just how close they were, and his face immediately flushed as red as Colaen.  
He pulled as far away as the alcove would allow, releasing Hermione's hand and clearing his throat awkwardly.  
"Anyway," He cleared his throat. "What's done is done, but please, I don't know what I would do without that familiar bush."  
"Oh, like you're one to talk." Hermione said jokingly. "Your hair is just as untameable as mine."  
"Yeah well," Harry retorted. "I think it's gotten easier to manage since I've been growing it out."  
They both laughed. However, the moment was interrupted by someone awkwardly clearing their throat.   
"Urmm... Harry?"  
They both turned to see little Colin Creevey staring at them, the tapestry having been pushed asside.  
"Oh, hey Colin." Harry greeted. "Shouldn't you be in class?"  
"I was asked to find you." The boy squeaked. "All... all champions are required to meet with the judges for... for something... I think it involves photos."  
Harry sighed internally. The last thing he needed right now was a photoshoot. The presence of a photograph, and consequently of the press, could very well mean that the Triwizard Tournament was getting some coverage, probably international with his terrible luck. He didn’t want the entire world to think he was a spoiled, entitled, attention seeking and stealing brat who would willingly enter a death tournament in his desperation for more fame.  
"Fine." He sighed in resignation. He turned to Hermione as they both climbed out of ⠮ alcove.  
"Will you be okay?"  
Hermione nodded.  
"It's probably too late to go to Potions, so I might just go to the library."  
Harry nodded.  
"Okay. See you."  
Once Hermione had disappeared around a corner, Colin turned to him.

"Was I interrupting something?"   
“What?! No, not at all!““ Harry said quickly.   
"You sure?" The boy asked with a skeptical frown. "Because it looked like..."  
"Colin, please, don’t go there." Harry interrupted irritably.  
Thankfully the younger wizard took the hint, and remained uncharacteristically silent for the rest of the journey.

Harry became even more irritated than he already was when, as soon as he walked into the room, his suspicions were proven to be correct; there was a reporter from the Daily Prophet in attendance with a photographer on the woman’s heels. However, he was relieved to discover that this was not the sole reason for this event. Apparently, Olivander the wand maker had come to assess the champions’ wands. He was ready to patiently wait for the weighing of the wands to begin and to get the photos out of the way. Unfortunately, nothing could ever go his way. The reporter, Rita Skeeter, dragged him out of the main room for a private interview.  
He was now sitting in a cupboard of all places, way too close to the domineering witch for comfort.  
He had already been feeling more irritated than usual because of the confrontation from earlier that had ended up hurting Hermione in the crossfire. Now he was also feeling extremely uncomfortable with his current location. Not that he was claustrophobic, he was fine with some small spaces. However, he specifically hated being in cupboards. It brought back bad memories of long, cold, dark, lonely nights, with no food or water. Of wanting someone to come and take him away from his horrible situation.  
And then there was the woman who was completely invading his personal spaces, and bombarding him with question after question. All this combined to bring back his uncontrollable rage.  
"Look," He finally snapped. "I couldn't care less about this bloody death tournament. I don't know how my parents would feel, seeing as they are dead. But I'm pretty sure they would not be too happy that I have, yet again, been thrown into danger against my will."  
He clenched his fist. This was not exactly true. He knew full well how worried his father was, and he assumed his other two parents would feel the same.  
"One year." He growled, slightly forgetting who exactly was in the cupboard with him. "One bloody year. That's all I asked for. A year where something wasn't trying to kill me. But do you think I got what I wanted? No. Because nothing can ever go right for me."  
"What do you mean?" Skeeter asked. "Surely Hogwarts is the safest place in all of magical Britain, if not the world?"  
Harry snorted.  
"If this is safe, then I would hate to see what the rest of the world looks like."  
A small part of him knew he shouldn't be doing this, that he should think before he spoke. But oh, how good it felt to get this off of his chest. For over two weeks, if not longer, this frustration had been building inside of him. He had of course expressed his feelings to his friends and family, but this felt so different. Saying this all at once, it was like a heavy weight had been lifted from his chest.  
It was only later, once they had left the cupboard, and he saw Skeeter's satisfied smirk that he realised the mistake he made. Now that his anger had for the most part melted away, he could once again think logically. And the first thing he thought was:  
Oh, bloody hell.

Later, Harry informed the other Riders and dragons of what his anger had done this time.  
"Seriously?" Brinla asked in surprise. "Was it truly wise to lose your temper in front of someone who's task is to spread information to the public?"  
“Well I didn’t exactly do it on purpose.“ Harry argued.  
"Still, this may be more dangerous than any physical injuries you could inflict." Hurzomna observed.  
Murtagh frowned in concern. It was true. Words and information could often be far more dangerous than any weapon. And with what Harry had just revealed...  
"Well," He began. "With what Harry had said, it would be logical to assume that the person who will be most affected by this information spreading around is Dumbledore."  
They all nodded. Harry chuckled dryly.  
"I'm pretty sure I just accidentally destroyed Dumbledore's whole career." He muttered. "But he'll probably somehow find a way to salvage the situation."  
Later, when Murtagh managed to get some time alone with his son, he sat down next to the young man, who was reading.  
"Are you alright?" He asked.  
Harry sighed and put the book down.  
"Yeah, I guess." He said. "I'm sorry about... You know..."  
Murtagh put a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
"It is fine." He said gently. "As long as you did not reveal anything about the Riders..."  
"No, of course not." Harry replied quickly. "I only talked about how Hogwarts was definitely not the safest place ever."  
He sighed.  
"I hope I didn't do too much damage." He muttered. "I was just so angry, especially after what happened earlier..."  
"What happened earlier?" Murtagh asked.  
Harry's eyes widened.  
"Oh, right, I guess I forgot to tell you."  
He rolled his eyes.  
"It all started just before Potions. Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins have yet again shown their "maturity". They made these stupid badges that say "Potter stinks". Seriously, that was the best insult they could come up with."  
Harry sighed.  
"But then we got into an argument, and Malfoy almost called Hermione a... You know... And well, one thing led to another and..."  
"You did not get into trouble, did you?" Murtagh asked.  
"No, no." Harry assured quickly. "We both threw spells at each other, but they didn't hit the intended targets. Mine hit Goyle, and Malfoy's hit Hermione."  
Murtagh frowned in concern.  
"Is she alright?"  
Harry nodded.  
"Yeah, all that happened was that her teeth began to grow longer than they already were. But Hermione was still pretty upset. I was able to somewhat comfort her, I think. I at least managed to calm her down long enough to get her to the hospital wing."  
Murtagh smiled.  
"Oh, did you now?"  
Harry groaned.  
"Please stop." He said with a groan. "It doesn't mean anything."  
"That is not what it looks like to me." Murtagh retorted. "Harry, it is obvious you have feelings for her. And I have seen how the two of you interact. It is clear she could very well be feeling the same way."  
"Not this again." Harry muttered.  
"I am only trying to help you." Murtagh replied. "It is never wise to suppress your feelings like this. Why won't you admit how you feel?"  
"Because I don't want to lose her!" Harry exclaimed, his eyes wide and his fists clenched.  
He sucked in several deep breaths.  
"Hermione was one of my first friends." He continued. "She has always stood by me, even when she and Ron were dragged into dangerous situations because of my terrible luck. Even after we had an argument over a broom of all things. I just feel... Different, when I'm with her. I feel... Feel like I have finally found someone who understands me... And I... I'm afraid that... That if I do make a move, that I admit how much I... I like her... That I think she is the most beautiful person, inside and out... That I... That I just want to be with her... And if something goes wrong... then we could never go back to how it was..."  
Murtagh could see it clearly. It was glaringly obvious now he thought about it. His son had faced dangers greater than anyone his age should face. And yet, due to his loveless childhood, he clung to whatever affection he could and was afraid to take any risks that may cause him to lose what he had.  
He wrapped his arm around his son.  
"I understand how you feel." He said. "You would not believe how terrified I was when I realised how I felt about your mother."  
He smiled sadly.  
"However, Thorn convinced me to take the risk. Because some things are just worth the risk."  
Harry sighed.  
"I just... Don't know how." He said quietly with a sigh. "And anyway, even if I managed to tell her how I feel, there is one small problem."  
"What is it?" Murtagh asked.  
"I'm a Dragon Rider." Harry replied. "I'm going to live for a very, very long time. And Hermione... While witches and wizards do live longer than normal humans, she will still grow old and eventually die, while I'll be young forever."  
He sighed.  
"It just wouldn't be fairfare for her."  
"Maybe I can help."  
Father and son jumped in surprise, and turned to see Eragon standing not too far away.  
"Eragon," Murtagh growled to his brother. "Were you eavesdropping?"  
Eragon at least had the decency to look sheepish.  
"I could not help but overhear the conversation." He admitted. "However, I might have a solution to this problem concerning Hermione's mortality."  
"What is it?" Harry asked.  
"Well," Eragon began. "You see, before leaving the Academy I thought it may be interesting to see if any more wizards would be seen as worthy to..."  
"Oh, bloody hell." Harry muttered. "You brought the eggs along? Seriously?"  
"Maybe?" Eragon admitted.  
"This is the first I have heard about this." Murtagh muttered, narrowing his eyes at his brother, who shifted uncomfortably.  
"I assure you, they are perfectly safe." Eragon assured the two others. "Anyway, what I am saying is, why not have Hermione tested?"  
Harry and Murtagh frowned in thought.  
"Well, I do not see why not. It sounds like a good idea to me." He began. “If anyone's worthy of being a Rider, it's Hermione." He added with a nod. "I could talk to her about it... But I'll also include Ron. I mean, I really don't want to leave him out of this."  
Murtagh and Eragon nodded.  
"You do what you feel best." Murtagh replied. "And Harry?"  
"Yeah?"  
Murtagh squeezed his shoulder.  
"Do not be afraid of how you feel." He said. "Sometimes taking that risk is worth it."  
Harry nodded.  
"Thanks." He replied. 

Later that night, after everyone had gone to bed, Harry sat down with Ron and Hermione in the empty common -room.  
"I have something very important to discuss with you." He began.  
"What is it?" Hermione asked with slight concern.  
"Nothing bad," Harry said quickly. "Just... Something that might be very good."  
"Well come on, just say it."  
Harry sucked in a nervous breath.  
"Well, you see, Eragon had had the brilliant idea to bring the eggs of the Riders along, because he wanted to see if any more wizards could become Riders and... Well..."  
Hermione gasped, and Ron's eyes wentwere wide.  
"Bloody hell." The red-head said in shock. "You... You're not saying that..."  
Harry raised a hand.  
"Now, there is no guarantee that an egg will actually hatch for you, but I personally think if I can become a Rider, then chances are, you will be too. I just thought... Maybe you would like the opportunity. I mean, Colaen is possibly one of the best things that has ever happened to me... And I would love for the two of you to experience it. Now don't make a decision right away. This is a very big responsibility, and more, it will be your lives. You can take as long as you want..."  
"Oh, thank you Harry." Hermione said, a wide smile on her face.  
"Yeah this is just... Bloody hell." Ron added in amazement.  
Harry smiled.  
"Just tell me when you feel ready, and we can have you tested."  
Harry was happy. He would love to have his two closest friends as Riders. He felt they deserved it, just as much, if not more, than he did.

The next morning, the consequences of Harry's little outburst became all too apparent. From the moment that a copy of the "Daily Prophet" landed in front of Hermione, Harry felt a sudden pit of dread in his stomach.  
"Here we go." He said nervously. "Let's see what I've done this time."  
He and Ron lent in to hear Hermione read the article.

My dear readers,  
When I first entered Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, I intended to report on the Triwizard tournament, and, more specifically, the mystery behind the surprise fourth champion of Harry Potter...

"Oh, for the love of," Harry muttered. "Hasn't she ever heard of confidentiallity?"

However, when I went to interview young Mr Potter, he revealed to me information which was so alarming, I could not simply go another moment without informing you all. It would seem that Hogwarts is not as safe as we have been led to believe...

The article continued with a somewhat accurate summary of the past three years, with various alterations and slight embellishments.  
"Oh, bloody hell." Harry said weakly.  
Both his friends clutched his hands comfortingly.

After much thought, I have come to the conclusion that perhaps Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, has been neglectful of his duties. After all, a responsible headmaster would have prevented these dangers, and not left it to the students to solve on their own. A responsible headmaster would have informed the parents and guardians of their students of anything that may have happened to their children. Do any of you remember hearing of a three-headed dog in the school? Do any of you remember being informed of the mysterious chamber of secrets being opened? Do any of you remember learning of the negative effects dementors had been having on the students?  
So I leave you with this question, dear readers. Should it be time for Albus Dumbledore to step aside, and let another, more responsible headmaster or headmistress take the lead...?

Harry groaned and held his head in his hands.  
"Yeah, I've really, really messed up."  
Hermione patted his shoulder.  
"I'm sure everything will be fine." She soothed.  
"Errr, I would maybe rethink that." Ron said nervously.  
Harry looked up to see...  
"Isn't that your family's owl?" Harry asked.  
"Yeah, but look what he's carrying." Ron said, now sounding absolutely terrified.  
Harry could feel his own heart beating rapidly in fear. For the owl held a red envelope, and was heading straight for Dumbledore.  
"That's Mum, I know it is." Ron hissed.  
The three of them watched nervously as the owl landed in front of Dumbledore, and the headmaster opened the envelope in apparent calmness.  
"Albus Dumbledore!" Mrs Weasley's voice echoed throughout the hall.  
Harry could see Ron's face becoming as red as his hair, and he was slowly sliding underneath the table in embarrassment.  
"How could you be so irresponsible!" The howler continued. "Arthur and I were horrified when our daughter almost died in the chamber..."  
Harry heard Ginny groaning in embarrassment, and he could see the other three Weasley siblings shrinking in their seats with burning faces.  
"But now I see that all of my children have been in danger just by being there! How dare you not inform us of the danger they were in, especially Ron. Almost killed by a giant chess set! Which brings me to another point. How could you be so neglectful that poor Harry had to solve all of your problems for you...!"  
"Oh, come on." Harry muttered, his own face growing hot.  
He began to sink down in his seat, and landed under the table to meet the four Weasleys. Harry chuckled sheepishly.  
"Well... I suppose you know why I've called this meeting." He said nervously.  
They all glared at him.  
"You just had to open your big mouth." Ginny growled.  
"Errr, sorry?" Harry replied. "It was an accident."  
"Errr, guys?"  
They all looked up to see Neville poking his head underneath the table.  
"It looks like more howlers have come, and they are all for Dumbledore."  
"How many?" Harry asked.  
"A lot." Neville replied nervously.  
They all exchanged a look.  
"Well, I don't know about you," Fred began.  
"But it would appear it is time for a tactical retreat." George continued.  
They all quickly crawled out from under the table, to see they were not alone in their thoughts. There was a great stampede to leave the Great Hall.  
The last students and teachers had just left the doors, when there was a great explosion of sound. The ground shook with several loud voices which echoed off of the stones.  
"Hey, did anyone see Dumbledore leave the Great Hall?" Ron asked.  
"Maybe he got lost in the crowd." Hermione suggested.  
Harry frowned.  
"Yeah, but I think he would be noticeable with his bright sense of fashion."  
He commented.  
It was only later that they learnt, apparently, Dumbledore had been magically glued to his seat. They didn't know who had done this, but Harry thought he saw a satisfied smile on Professor McGonagall's face.


End file.
